#bye everyone see you in a year when i write my next thing

[cosmicballads]

fisselig

Send a Ship + a Non-Translatable Word

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Fisselig: Being flustered to the point of incompetence

—

Everything was going smoothly. Smoother than Remy had initially anticipated. He knew that while people believed he was incredibly approachable, Remy was barely capable of conversing with the people he worked with regularly, let alone a stranger. He had his people, the (very) few who could comfortably push Remy out of his comfort zone and he was grateful for them. Those same people were also the ones who pushed Remy into going out and attempting to date.

‘You can’t live in your cabin alone forever.’ They had a point, and despite his protest that he wasn’t alone (he did have his hound after all), there were other facets of human interaction that he did need, which couldn’t be satiated by some seedy website or overpriced movie. Besides, he could only rely on his imagination for so long. Online dating worked to help build up his confidence. Mainly because he could sound effortless, charming, and dare he say cool through the messaging systems which was a huge difference compared to his stammering nervous wreck when he had to speak to a person face to face. His friends also set him up on blind dates, many of which went about as well as he could expect, despite the nerves that seemed to wrack him but nothing ever escalated to the point where the invite back to his place or theirs; Remy learned quickly that he had to disclose he lived in the woods and was, not a serial killer, which somehow killed the buzz more than anybody would have anticipated. 

This date, on the other hand, was going swimmingly. Tabitha didn’t care that he lived in the woods. Quite frankly, she was Intimidating enough that he would be the one who was lured into the woods never to come out again. Remy felt that Tabitha complimented him almost perfectly. Something about the woman eased his anxieties and allowed him to relax enough so that when the two determined that the remainder of the evening would best be finished off somewhere more private, he didn’t hesitate to suggest his place.  

The tension in the air only seemed to thicken by the time the Uber driver had dropped them off in front of his door, there was very little time between them getting out of the car and inside the door before the momentum heated up. It was in one fell swoop that Tabitha found herself on top of the wooden dining table, half-dressed with Remy’s callused hands moving towards removing her jeans. She stopped him, not seeing the brief flash of panic that crossed his face, the fear that he had somehow fucked up and killed the mood. His button-down came off, her hands tangled into his hair, and their lips met hungrily. There was a sense of relief that relaxed Remy’s tensed shoulders at Tabitha taking charge, he was far enough out of practice that he certainly didn’t want to tell this woman who had very much taken charge what to do. He would let her lead and make sure if anything, she left more satisfied than she anticipated. Of course, this meant that he had to get over the fact that he was equally as clothed as the woman in front of him and that they wouldn’t be for much longer. Or the fact that if everything went horribly, he would never live it down and replay every moment that went wrong in his mind (and not in a good way) every time he would hopefully get as far if not further with another woman. 

Tabitha pulled away quickly as if something had shocked her, and her face twisted from what he could only assume was lust to a brief look of embarrassment before the anger took over. A glance down and the now gaping space between them told Remy everything. Before he could stammer out an apology or an excuse or anything to potentially save the situation, Tabitha had dressed and was in the process of ordering a rideshare back into town. Back home and far away from the disaster that was Remy.

“I-I d-do-don’t- it-it wasn’t you.” He managed to get out, fearing the ire that would come from the woman tapping her foot impatiently, not bothering to glance at Remy back, let alone the time of day. He watched her tense up, a slow turn to face him again and Remy could feel the anger rolling off her in waves. 

Instead, Tabitha said nothing. The ping from her phone let her know that her driver was five minutes away and to be ready to go outside and get out of this disaster area. Without another word, the front door opened, the chill of the night air cooled Remy’s hot face, and then closed once more, taking what up until a few moments ago, his date with it.

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

I : Strawberry Wine

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

the prelude to this series

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3

author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo

Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before. 

The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat. 

“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”

Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy? 

Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life. 

Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”

You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic. 

“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”

“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”

You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you. 

“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

-

“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”

He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.

You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”

He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face. 

“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”

So he’s single. You think to yourself. 

You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him. 

Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”

“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.” 

The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat. 

And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes. 

“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”

You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it. 

“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”

“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”

He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”

-

The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner. 

“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”

You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things. 

“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”

As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind. 

“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”

His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like. 

“Baked chicken and vegetables?”

He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”

You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. 

You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”

-

You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date. 

You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable. 

You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed. 

When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be. 

Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”. 

What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. 

“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”

You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. 

“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”

-

You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring. 

You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. 

“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness. 

He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”

You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”

“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”

You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel. 

“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”

He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”

You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking. 

You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable. 

You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting. 

Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently. 

After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner. 

“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies. 

“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.” 

The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full. 

“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”

He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”

“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”

He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”

“Does a check work?”

He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”

“What are neighbors for, Joel?”

He nods, “You mean friends.”

You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.

“Friends, huh?”

He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”

The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response. 

“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”

He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”

He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”

-

You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you. 

You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”

You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”

He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”

The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen. 

“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”

“What? You not good at letting loose?”

You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”

“Now, why do you say that?”

You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas. 

“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”

You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything. 

You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”

You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right. 

“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”

It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.

“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing. 

You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough. 

“Only ones that fix my toilets.”

And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass. 

He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”

He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”

He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”

You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up. 

You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment. 

“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment. 

“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight. 

“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”

He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."

taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)

@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm 

@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle

[harrysfolklore]

love on tour, forever - blurb

i watched harry’s video and got super inspired to write this, it’s definitely one of my favorite things i’ve done so i hope you like it 🥺

ALL GIFS ARE BY @delicatepointofview FOLLOW THEM FOR THE BEST GIFS EVER <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

“Do you think I should pack this?” you asked holding a video camera up, catching Harry’s attention.

“That would be great, love,” he said from the bed, watching you add the final items to your suitcase, “That way you can film me while I shower for when we’re apart.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes with affection and he smirked, “I’m filming special moments with this, you know, backstage moments your photographers don’t always catch.”

“Bummer,” he shrugged, making you roll your eyes at him again, “I’m just kidding love, that is a very lovely idea.”

“It’s settled then.” You smiled at him and put the camera in your suitcase, knowing that by the end of the tour, it would be filled with the most special and heartfelt moments.

“What are you doing down there, lovie?”

“Making sure I get all of your angles,” you shrugged, focused on your video camera, “Here’s the rockstar, getting his steps in before hitting the stage.”

He let out a laugh before you could catch a flash of mischief in his eyes, “You know, there’s another way I could get my cardio in.”

“Stop it, you’re on camera,” you held your finger up and gave him warning eyes, you were planing on showing this videos to his mom who couldn’t be with him all the time, and the last thing you wanted was her knowing abouthis shenanigans, “How are you feeling, nervous about tonight’s performance?”

“I feel good,” he said truthfully, “I’m excited to see everyone and sing our songs, but most importantly I’m excited to wear sparkly gear again.”

“There he is, there he is,” you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile, “I’m going to film the real stars of the show, Mitch and Sarah, so say bye.”

“Bye YN’s camera! Such a shame you’re not catching my post workout shower!”

“It’s negative!” Nyoh said as she entered the room, making everyone cheer and clap.

“We’re not sick! That deserves a happy dance!” Harry said as he stood up and danced goofily around the room, making everyone laugh at him.

Looking at your camera sitting at the table, you decided it was a golden moment you couldn’t afford to miss.

“Okay Ny-ny, could you hold your test up so everyone knows why this man-child is dancing like a fool,” Nyoh showed her test to the camera, laughing as you moved it to show Harry who kept on dancing, “Sometimes I don’t know if I’m dating an adult or a five year old.”

“Come on lovie, dance with me!” he approached you, holding his hand out, “If you don’t I’m going to be sad” he said in a dramatic voice, and you passed your camera to Sarah who was sitting next to you, getting her to film the both of you.

“I want to kiss you right now but we can’t take off our masks,” Harry said before a minute of jumping around, “Easy tiger, we’ll be alone soon.”

“Rehearsal time!” you said cheerfully, filming everyone on stage, “Here’s Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Niji, Ny,” they all waved as you mentioned their names, “And there’s a dude called Harry who claims to be the headliner of the show, no one knows him tho.”

“Come on woman,” Harry gave you an annoyed playful look, “You know me, very well. Actually you know parts of my body that-“

“Harry! What’s with you and your horny comments all the time, you’re like a teenager!” you shook your head, all of his bandmates laughing at your banter.

“Can you blame me? I go home to you every night, I’m a lucky bastard.”

“That you are!” Pauli chimed in, making everyone laugh again.

The band continued rehearsing, you standing in a corner and catching some moments on video. Once they were done with Canyon Moon, Harry called for you.

“So, love. What do you think? Do we sound good.” Harry asked, looking at your with happy eyes, aware that you were still getting it all on camera.

“If by we you mean your band, they sound amazing as always. If you’re included in that ‘we’ then I don’t know, you should practice some more”.

Harry threw his head back in laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt with one hand and his mic with the other, “Why are you sassy with me today! What have I done?”

You only shrugged and laughed along with him, getting on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek softly.

“Practice some more, I said!”

“Aren’t you the cutest little thing ever?” you cooed at the baby in your lap, Mitch and Sarah asked you to watch their son while they run something with the rest of the band and you were more than happy to do it, “You’re the sweetest boy I know!”

“I thought I was the sweetest boy you knew!” Harry’s voice made its way to you ears, he entered the room accompanied by Mitch and Sarah, the baby instantly making grabby hands at his mom.

“You’re not a boy anymore, you’re basically pushing 30!”

“Don’t remind me!” he dramatically said, “I’m still young and full of life.”

The four of you laughed, Sarah moving to sit next to you and Mitch and Harry hanging out by the door.

“Did he give you any trouble?” Sarah asked, looking down at her son, “He just learned how to walk without any help do he could be a handful sometimes.”

“Not at all, he’s the easiest baby ever.” You smiled at them tenderly.

“He’s not only obsessed with walking, he’s obsessed with dancing too.” Mitch said before taking a sip out of his wine glass, he’s never without one.

“Oh! I didn’t know that!” Harry said excitedly, “Baby, dance for us!”

Sarah put him down and Harry tried to make a melody by hitting the wall and mumbling random stuff, the boy instantly moving his body in an adorable way that made everyone laugh and awe at him.

Harry noticed that you had grabbed your camera to film the moment and he spoke directly to it, “That’s it! We have Love On Tour’s official dancer”

“Here’s the boss man, with his brand new Love On Tour jacket,” you filmed Harry, who was posing by the door showing off his new clothing, “I have my own too, with my name on it and all,” you turned the camera around to show yours briefly before turning it to Harry again, “Anything you would like to say?”

“It’s show time, baby!” he bobbed his head, making the sunglasses who were resting on his head fall to his eyes.

You burst out laughing and so did he after a minute of holding his straight face, “You’re such a dork!”

“But you love me a lot!”

“Eu te amo, Brasil!” Harry yelled to the empty stadium after sound-checking Lights Up.

“As you can see, he’s excited to be here,” you zoomed in on him with your camera, “We love this country so much.”

“We do, we do,” Harry agreed, “I’m putting on my best dance clothes and shoes tonight, this show is going to be massive!”

“You’re a dancer now?” you asked to piss him off.

“Of course! Look at my moves.” He grabbed his mic with one hand, putting the other on his hip and moving funnily.

“Look at that! You’re going straight to Dancing with the Stars after this tour.”

“I’m more of a Dancing Moms kinda guy.” He shrugged, making everyone laugh before moving on with the next song to rehearse.

“There it is, the 10th tweet about how they’re going to the show for Lloyd only.” You giggled, scrolling down your timeline while Harry watched over your shoulders.

“Okay, that’s it,” he said before standing up, “Lloyd Wakefield !” at this, the photographer turned his head around, previously in a conversation with Madi and some other crew members.

“Yes?” Lloyd asked in a confused tone, you stood back and grabbed your camera, knowing a funny moment you would love to remember was coming.

“I might have to fire you,” Harry said, his voice trying to sound serious but his eyes gave him away, “You’re stealing the show and I can’t accept that.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes and everyone in the room turned their attention to them with grins on their faces, they were used to Harry’s humor.

“Yeah? And who’s going to be your photographer now?”

“Or we could solve this like manly man, with a fight.”

“As if you would fight anyone!” you chimed in from your place, making them turn your attention to you.

“Is that my own girlfriend doubting me?” he said, faking an offended tone, “Bring it in, Wakefield”

Lloyd laughed but played along, bringing his arms up and playfully challenging Harry, but somehow they ended up putting their hands together and moving them back and forth.

“Look at the manly man, fighting for who’s the star of the show,” you said, your camera focusing on them, “Just another day on the road.”

“I don’t know what we’re doing but I’m winning!” Harry chirped and everyone laughed again.

“Harry! Harry! Harry!”

Was all that was heard backstage at Reggio Emilia RFC Arena, some people holding up champagne glasses and jumping up and down.

“We did it!” Harry yelled as he placed himself in the center of the room, his vest long forgotten, jumping and twirling along with the cheers.

As usual, you were holding your camera, filming the special you knew he would want to replay over and over again.

“Congratulations baby, another world tour completed!” you said to him, “Any final words you would like to say to the camera.”

Harry paused to think for a few seconds before speaking, “I love you, that’s all,” she shook his head almost in disbelief, “You have been here for every step of the way, and that means the world to me, none of this would be possible without you.”

“Awe! Aren’t you a softie?” Jeff cheered, throwing his arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair playfully.

“I’m just in love.” He winked at the camera and that was your cue to turn it off and take in the moment.

For three years, Love On Tour ruled the world and changed yours, giving you the opportunity to be by Harry’s side for every milestone and special moment.

The tour might had come to an end, but the memories created around it would last forever.

And you were glad you got them all on camera.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe

[trashywormeateroffics]

the great war (bucky barnes x female reader)

the gif is not mine!

summary: you get jealous and have a fight with bucky. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.

a/n: hey anon!!! sorry it took so long. i have no excuse. anyways, i hope you enjoy this!!! <333 also i am once again asking u to send me requests with marvel characters (natasha/bucky/loki) and taylor swift songs so i can write a one shot about it !!!! bye love u

masterlist

\\\\

you don't know how it all happened. one second, everything was perfect. the next, you were acting like a crazy person and saying horrible and hurtful things. and now you're pretty sure you've officially lost him forever.

\\\\

it all started with her. agent carpenter. pretty, blue eyed blonde, flirty, perfect agent carpenter.

“alright everyone,” tony begins and the people in the meeting fall into silence. “as you all know, a new member is joining us on the avengers initiative.” they all nod, including you. “her name is samara carpenter and she was personally recruited by fury. which means she's very good at what she does.” the billionaire looks at steve and he nods, taking the lead.

“alright, i want you all to be nice and welcoming. especially you buck.” he says, making most of the people there snort. you look at him.

“what did i do now?” bucky asks, incredulous.

“nothing yet, but if you just stare at her and don't greet her like a normal person she'll leave this team as fast as she came.” sam tells him. the grumpy super soldier rolls his eyes.

“whatever, bird-brain.”

steve shakes his head in disapproval of the two bickering idiots but soon enough he's back on track with the presentation.

bucky's rough gaze scans the room until it falls on you. his eyes soften when he sees that you are already looking at him. you give him a soft and playful smile, which he returns.

after the meeting is done and everyone is dismissed, you head to your room.

not five seconds pass until someone knocks on the door. you smile, because you know who it is.

“come in!” you sing-song.

when he enters, you can't help but stare at him. you've been together for a year now but you still couldn't believe that he was yours. he was so beautiful, so funny, so kind, so dumb sometimes, just so… him. you loved him so much. yet you still hadn't said it. you were trying to take things slow, for both of your sakes.

“hey.” you tell him as he closes the door behind him. he has a look on his face which you recognize. something's bothering him.

“c'mere.” you pat the spot next to you on the bed.

he wastes no time in dropping himself unceremoniously on the mattress and letting out a sigh.

you begin to run your hands through his hair.

“d'you think i'm scary?” he asks with a pout adorning his beautiful pink lips. god, you want to kiss him so badly. so that's what you do. you peck his lips and then immediately shake your head with a smile.

“do you think that adorable pout could be scary?” he purses his lips to stop himself from smiling, but still, a small smile plays on his lips.

“y/n, i'm being serious.” he sighs. you do too.

“maybe to some people you could be. not to me though.”

“but when you first met me-”

“i was too busy thinking about how hot you were to worry about you being scary.” he laughs. god, how you love that sound. you would ridicule yourself to hear it. “is this about what steve and sam said?”

he shrugs.

“i just… hate that i'm so socially inadequate.”

you hand in his hair stops. he furrows his brows.

“bucky,” you begin, “we are a bunch of weirdos, all of us. there is not one person on this team who is socially adequate.”

“but at least the others can fake it, you can fake it.”

“you know what my favorite thing about you was when we first started to become friends?” you ask and he shakes his head. “that your face said it all. if you weren't in the mood for something, i could tell from a mile away, and in return, if something excited you, it would be contagious.” you caress his cheek and he leans into your touch. “and when i couldn't pretend, i always knew you were there to just sit in silence with me. no expectations to be socially acceptable.”

“i don't know how you do it.” he sighs. you frown.

“do what?”

“make every bad thing about me sound so… good.”

your frown deepens.

“hey.” you straddle him and grab his face in between both your hands. “you are perfect. just like you are. don't you dare change yourself.” you tell him firmly. then you purse your lips. “unless you totally want to for whatever reason and i would totally support you because-” you suddenly fall silent. he looks at you, expectant for you to finish your sentence. “because you know i'm here for you, no matter what.”

he smiles softly.

“i know, doll. me too, i'm always here for you no matter what.” you purse your lips to stop yourself from spilling your heart out of your mouth as you caress his cheekbone with your thumb.

“how about we watch a movie? you can pick.”

he pecks your lips and nods.

you spend what is left of the day watching movies and cuddling.

\\\\

two days after that meeting, she arrives. you're all hanging around the common kitchen when steve appears with someone trailing behind him.

“everyone, this is agent carpenter.”

“please, call me samara. or sammie even.”

“sammie, nice to meet you.” sam is the first one to greet her. “i'm sam wilson, but the coolest avenger is fine too.”

you shake your head and roll your eyes. then, you take a step forward, but before you can introduce yourself and welcome her to the team, you see her eyes flicking over to something right next to you. or someone. her eyes shine with curiosity and attraction.

“hi, nice to meet you.” she smirks. you swallow slowly.

bucky gives her a nod, but then he seems to remember what steve and sam told him and attempts to give her a smile.

“hi, i'm bucky.”

“bucky,” she repeats slowly, almost tasting the name in her mouth. she's about to say something else but before she can, you speak up.

“i'm y/n. welcome to the team.” you smile as honestly as you possibly can, but dread fills your stomach.

“hi!” she smiles at you. “you're so pretty, oh my god!”

you give her a tight smile.

“thank you.”

“of course!”

the rest of the team introduces themselves, even though she insists she already knows almost all of them and then you all go about your day.

\\\\

it had been a month since she arrived at the compound. you had seen her a few times, mostly during training. but you didn’t particularly go out of your way to talk to her. there was something you didn’t like. maybe it was your intuition, or maybe it was the fact that she did seem to go out of her way to talk to your boyfriend. and he did not seem upset by that, the opposite actually. he seemed to enjoy it.

you were not a jealous person, least of all with bucky. but something about her irked you. something about her made you doubt yourself and everything you believed in.

“i like her,” natasha says while she paints her nails, laying on her stomach on your bed.

wanda hums in agreement while she flips through the pages of a beauty magazine. you don’t say anything.

“what about you, y/n?”

“um, yeah.” you try to give them a convincing smile but based on the looks they give you, you do not succeed.

“okay, spill the tea.” wanda tells you. had she been learning internet lingo?

you sigh.

“i just- i don’t know.” you shake your head. “doesn’t something feel off to you?”

“not really.” wanda says as natasha narrows her eyes.

“you’re jealous.” she finally decrees.

“i’m not.” you respond defensively.

“you’re jealous that she seems to be getting along with barnes.”

“i-“ you begin your sentence with the intention of uttering a lie, but it dies right on your tongue. “i am. but i don’t want to be.” you confess.

“explain yourself.” she tells you in a tone that could sound commanding and harsh to someone else, but you know it’s filled with care. she’s your best friend, she would never hurt you on purpose. so is wanda, who looks at you with a knowing look you can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for.

“i just- i don’t know. he’s never like that with anyone. since when is he the type to joke around with someone?” you shake your head. “i’m an asshole, cause i should be happy for him. he’s putting himself out there. but i can’t. i’m jealous. so cliche.” you huff.

“you’re not an asshole. an asshole would make a whole scene, give him an ultimatum or something like that. you’re just expressing your feelings to your friends.”

“and, y/n, we all have those ugly feelings. they are human.” wanda tells you, softly. “you should talk to him about it.”

“what if he gets mad?”

“y/n, please. that man adores you, he could never get mad at you. least of all for this.”

maybe they’re right. maybe that’s the healthiest thing to do. and even as you agree with them, you know you will not talk to him about this. because he will realize that you’re right, and that there is so much more to the world than just… you.

\\\\

“come on! you just have to put it in the oven!”

you hear her before you see her. you weren’t expecting to see him though.

right there, almost as if mocking you, they stand. cooking together. he looks so comfortable around her.

they seem to be wrapped up in their own little bubble, so you clear your throat. immediately, they turn to look at you. he widens his eyes, almost looking guilty.

“james found me and i asked him to join me.” she explains, but you stop paying attention the moment she says his name. she called him james.

“james?” you narrow your eyes in question.

he seems to want to say something because he opens his mouth like a fish out of water but you leave mumbling an excuse about training with nat before he can utter a word.

back in your room, you fall to the floor and break down. you knew she was trouble the moment she walked in, but you weren’t expecting this to happen so soon.

heartbroken, you get up from where you’re sitting and head to your bathroom.

the girl in the mirror looks defeated, but you feel angry. if he didn't need you anymore, then you didn’t need him either.

\\\\

the days after that, you ignore him, always having an excuse at the tip of your tongue to not hang out with him. he doesn’t seem to care that much. until, you suppose, after three days, he begins caring.

“doll, can we talk?”

“hm?” you play dumb. you encountered each other in the common kitchen. that damned place, you hated it now, but you were hungry.

“i asked you if we can talk. you seem… distant.” his brows are furrowed. you only know that because you turned to look at him only for a second. other than that, your gaze doesn’t meet his. “come on, y/n, i know something’s wrong.”

you look at him and smile sarcastically.

“you do?”

“yes. please, let’s ta-“

“hey guys!” you roll your eyes at her voice.

“have fun you two!” you tell them, smiling venomously, only looking at him before you leave.

“is everything okay?” she asks.

“i’m sorry samara, i can’t talk right now.” you hear him say before you hear his footsteps getting closer to you in the hallway.

“y/n!” he calls out to you when you get into the elevator without looking behind you. before the doors can close, you see his metal arm get in between them. he gets in and they close. once they do, he hits the stop button. then, he turns to you. he frows when he sees the hate in your eyes. “y/n, what is going on?”

you scoff.

“fuck off, james.” you tell him, your voice full of venom. he widens his eyes in surprise before narrowing them.

“oh, so that’s it? you’re jealous and that’s why you’re avoiding me and acting crazy now?”

“i’m not jealous, but i’m not blind either.” you clench your jaw. “and don’t call me crazy.”

“you are blind if you think something’s going on with her.” he tells you. you roll your eyes and then tilt your head.

“when was the last time you let someone call you james? when was the last time you cooked with someone who was not steve?” he begins breathing heavily. you laugh and bite your lip incredulously. “i think you took the whole being friendly thing too serious.”

“i can't believe you right now.” he shakes his head. “you're angry because i'm not being an asshole to her?”

you scoff.

“oh, please, james.” he clenches his jaw.

“stop calling me that.”

“oh, so i can't call you that but she can?”

“you know that's not-”

“you know what? go ahead. let her call you james. fuck her in the middle of the common room for all i care. lets see how long she puts up with you.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth but its too late, a deep hurt covers his face. still, you can't stop. you're too hurt, too scared. too goddamn stupid. “you think she's going to console you while you have your nightmares?” you laugh venomously. “you think she's going to accept you, all of you?” as you keep talking, his expression turns from pained to angry. resentful even.

he turns to the panel control of the elevator and pushes the stop button so the elevator will move again.

“you know what?” he glances at you and you're almost taken aback by the distant look in his eyes. “maybe i'll fuck her. maybe i'll even date her too. she's probably not as desperate and clingy as you.”

“fuck you.” you spit out.

the doors open, he steps outside. before he leaves, he turns to look at you.

“yeah, you too.”

after the doors close again, you fall to the floor and let out a heart-wrenching sob. you never thought it would end like this.

\\\\

four days. four fucking, horrible, long days bucky has been gone from the compound. you try to ask steve about it, because you know he knows where he is, but he won't tell you. even though you two are close friends and he never got in the middle of a fight between you two– even though you two never fought– he seemed angry. at you. you didn't know if he knew the reason for the fight, but he knew you were in the wrong, that much you knew.

these days all you do is cry, sleep, eat and repeat. you're way past heartbroken, you're miserable, inconsolable. it's all your fault. this prison of sadness was your own making.

you miss him. god, you miss him. you wonder how he is. did he already fuck someone else? did he regret ever being with you?

you don't dare text or call him. you're too embarrassed. you acted like a crazy person, and said awful, horrific things. and you're pretty sure he'll never forgive you. but what will you do then? how will you build a life without him? oh god, you're crying again. great, just great, you think as you turn around in your bed. who were you without him?

\\\\

its the sixth day of his absence when you go talk to steve. you drag yourself from your bed, with your swollen and red rimmed eyes and knock on his door.

“y/n…” he tells you, pity dripping from his tone.

“hey…” you try to give him a fake smile, but as soon as the corners of your mouth move, they turn downwards into a frown, and you start crying. sobbing really. inconsolable sobs leave you as steve wraps you up in his arms.

“hey, hey, it's okay.”

“no, it's not! i hurt him! i don't know why i did it, but i did!” you sob.

“hey,” he pulls away from you a bit to look you in the eyes, “come in. come on, come on.” he tells you as you slowly make your way inside.

you sit down on the edge of his bed and he sits down next to you.

“steve, is he- is he okay?”

he looks at you. you know him, so you know that that look means he isn't.

“he's safe though.”

“i really messed up.”

“i know.”

“he told you?”

“he didn't need to. i saw it on camera. wanted to know why the elevator stopped working for a while.”

you put your head in your hands and begin sobbing again.

“oh my god.” you sob. “i-i'm so sorry you had to see that. i dont… i dont know what-” a hiccup escapes you. “i can't-” another hiccup. “oh god…” your shoulders shake as you sob into your hands.

“hey…” he draws comforting circles on your back, but nothing can comfort you. not when he's hurt and hates you and it's all your fault. “hey.”

“steve, how can i fix it? can i even-” hiccup, “can i even fix it?”

he looks at you with pity.

“i don't know, y/n. i think he's gonna need some time.”

“oh my god.” you say. steve had always rooted for you two, so if he's saying it can't be fixed it really means it can't. “i'm going to die.”

“you're not going to die.”

“i can't live without him. i can't.” you shake your head frantically. “please, just tell me where he is. i need to-”

“i dont think it's a good idea.” he tells you sympathetically.

“please,” you beg him, “please, i need to- if it ends…” more tears fall from your eyes. “it can't end like that. please. he deserves more than that.”

he looks at you, seemingly pondering what you're saying. you look at him the whole time, pleading. he sighs. he's going to tell you.

\\\\

you look at the old building that seems to be deteriorating with each passing second. you straighten down your clothes (steve insisted you get properly showered and dressed) and take a deep breath. he's staying at a safe house in brooklyn. of course. it was so predictable and so him, you almost decided to leave. maybe you should let it end how it ended. what if this time it was worse? but you didn't have the luxury to think like that. it was over, but you needed him to remember you as the good times you shared, not that damned last time.

you enter the building and go up the stairs to the seventh floor, since there is no elevator.

when you reach his door, a green one who looked like if you blew on it it would fall down, you freeze. what are you even supposed to say to him? hi, bucky, sorry i told you she wouldn't be able to put up with you, insinuating that you are hard to love, hope everythings okay between us! ugh, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

you take another deep, slow breath, because you know otherwise he'll be able to hear you. then, you knock two times.

when the door opens he takes your breath away. this time not because he's gorgeous but because you're so scared that you fear you're going to pass out.

“what do you want?” he asks harshly. you feel tears prick your eyes but you blink them away.

“hear me out, please.”

“no, thank you.” he goes to close the door, but you swiftly get inside before he does. he slams the door behind him when he turns around to look at you, now inside the apartment, looking uncomfortable and out of place. “i told you i didn't want to hear you out.”

“just-”

“leave.”

“one second-”

“leave, y/n.”

“bucky-”

“oh, so now i'm bucky?” your lip wobbles.

“you're always bucky.”

“not last time we talked.”

“that's why i'm here.” he lifts his chin, looking at you with so much indifference you wonder if he ever looked at you with love in his eyes.

“i don't care to hear you explain yourself.” a tear escapes your eye. you dry it with your sleeve harshly. his face seems to soften for a second but then it goes back to its harshness.

“i'm not here- i'm not here to explain myself.” he looks at you.

“why are you here then?” you sigh.

“remember that time you took me to feed the ducks on that park?”

“yes. so?”

you smile softly as tears fall down your face.

“that was the time i told you i wanted to be your girlfriend. no one ever took me to such a silly date.” you chuckle softly. then you frown in pain looking at the floor now. he shifts his weight from one feet to the other, impatient.

“what's your point?”

“that's how i'd like you to remember me.”

“what?” you look at him. he's frowning.

“i know that the last time we talked i was… crazy. i just- i know theres no going back, but id like, for the sake of what we had, for you to not remember me like that.” you tell him. “because we were more than that.” the last word comes out broken to give way to a silent sob. you try to compose yourself. “I'm sorry. don't pay attention to that.” you give him a fake smile, which you know he can see right through.

“y/n-”

“okay, i'll leave. but… come back to the compound. i'll move out if you want me to, just, don't stay away from your friends just because of me.” you go to leave, walking past him, when he grabs your arm. when you turn around there are unshed tears in his eyes.

“i don't care about the compound. or about remembering you.” oh. you widen your eyes and heavy tears leave them.

“okay, i'm- i'm sorry for suggesting-”

“no.” you nod, understanding. “no, no.” he repeats. he grabs you by the shoulders and he crouches so he's eye level with you. “i don't want to have to remember you.”

you frown.

“but, bucky-”

“but i probably should.” he cuts you off.

“yeah,” you laugh humorlessly as you cry. “you should. i'm sorry. i never should've come here. i'm sorry.”

“stop saying sorry and explain to me what the hell happened.” you tilt your head.

“i… i got jealous.”

“that's it? that's why you hurt me?” he asks. you look down. this was it. he was giving you a chance. explain yourself like you never have before, you think to yourself.

“i never got why you were with me-”

“stop saying were. this could end today, but as of now, were still together.” you purse your lips. “hey, hey, its okay.” he says softly as he puts his hands on your cheeks and wipes the tears that begin falling again with his thumbs.

“im sorry-” he looks at you pointedly. you nod. “i just… i don't understand why you're with me. im not- im nothing like you.” you begin. he frowns. “you are kind and thoughtful and amazing and im- im not good like you.”

“what? y/n, you're the best person i know.”

“you can't still think that.” he looks at you honestly. he does? “see? you're so- and i'm so…”

“lets sit down.” he tells you and you both do, on the old couch thats near the window. he gestures for you to continue.

“i just- you'll never get it. and thank god you won't. but im not- im not a natural, you know? not like you, not like her.” you fidget with your hands. “you guys, the team, you like me because i'm fake. you wouldn't if you knew the real me. but i showed it to you pretty easily, i guess.” you laugh without a trace of humor. he frowns. then, he grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles. bucky takes a deep breath before speaking.

“y/n, i like- no, scratch that. i love you because i know you.” your face contorts in pain. you start crying heavily again. “hey, hey, come on baby, talk to me.”

“i just… she's so… perfect. for everyone, for you.”

“i don't want her, i want you.”

“you cant want me after what i said to you. i hurt you and i'll never forgive myself for that.”

“yes, you hurt me. but you were hurt too, i just didn't see it.”

“im so scared you'll wake up one day and realize there is so much more to the world than… me.” you sob and cover your face with your hands.

bucky pulls your hands away from you face and pulls you into his lap.

“listen to me.” he tells you firmly. “there is nothing more to the world than you. you are it for me, y/n. i love you.”

“bucky-” you hiccup. “i'm so sorry i said that about you. i promise you i just said it to you because i- i was lashing out. anyone would accept and love you, you are literally the most amazing-” hiccup, “person-” hiccup, “in the universe.”

he smiles softly at you and the unshed tears come back, but this time, he lets them fall.

“baby, listen to me. i love you. i'm not going anywhere.” you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. “and i forgive you. i promise you i don't resent you. i know what it's like to lash out when you're hurt.”

“bucky-” you sob against his chest.

“shh, baby, its okay.” he soothes you, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “it's okay, i got you.”

you take a shuddering breath and lift your head from his chest to look at him. you grab his face with both your hands.

“i promise you i'll never lash out again. im so sorry. i-” he gives you a pointed look. “i know. im not saying sorry anymore. sor-” you purse you lips and he lets out a laugh. then, he shakes his head incredulous and looks at you with so much adoration in his eyes you feel like you're going to pass out from all the love you feel for this man. “can i kiss you?” you ask him shyly.

“please.”

and so you do. the kiss is soft, vulnerable, you're telling him how sorry you are, how much you love him, and thats when you remember you didn't say it.

he whines when you pull away, something that makes you smile.

“bucky,”

“yeah, baby?”

“i love you. so much i feel like i'm going to throw up.” he lets out a loud laugh.

“i love you more, doll.”

you spend the rest of the day cuddled up on that couch in that old apartment, not ready to go to the compound yet. but you do send a text to steve before turning off your phone to spend time with the love of your life. you almost lost him, but you didn't, and as you lay in that old mattress on the floor, while he makes love to you and whispers of words of adoration and devotion fill your ears, you vow to him one thing. you'll always be his.

[hamiltonaf]

Can you do one with Kylian being very jealous of yn all the time and every time she talks to a guy friend he gets mad and makes a big fuss about it and yn gets tired of him and wants to leave him but then he gets upset and begs for forgiveness but she is so tired of his bullshit and want to take a break from the relationship but after 1-2 months they get back together and he got jealous again so she wants to know why he is like that and it turned out that his ex girlfriend cheated on him multiple times so he had trust issues and she assured him that she wasn’t going to do the same thing

Trust Issues | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Minor angst

A/N: Hii loves ! I’m finally back. Apologies for being MIA, I had a lot going on, plus I had writers block. I’m sorry in advance if the end is disappointing - I honestly feel like I forgot how to write lol. If you’ve sent a request before, please note that I’m working on it. Anywho, enjoy .xoxo

Never thought I’d come to a point in life where I had to cut off all my guy friends for Kylian’s sake. I’ve told myself in the past that if I had to face that in a relationship then I’m walking out. Mentally I’m playing hangman with Kylian’s name.

I love Kylian, I really do, it’s also cute at times to see him get jealous but when it comes to a point when he tells me that I need to stop talking to my guy friend then I don’t vibe with that. He’s basically saying that he doesn’t trust me.

We’ve fought, he apologised, I looked past it for us to move on, but he just crossed the line.

I went out for a friend’s birthday dinner, Kylian decided to stay back and chill at home, though he promised he would pick me up after. The birthday dinner felt like a reunion as some of us were seeing each other after years, it was great catching up with everyone, especially Daniel. Him and I were really close growing up as our parents were good friends, but since I moved and was with Kylian I rarely attended gatherings.

It was getting quite late and Kylian was delayed, I didn’t bother rushing him since Daniel was accompanying me and we were just catching up on lost time. We were stood outside the restaurant, dinner had just ended, some had left and others were in their own conversations. “So how are things going? What have you been up to ?” Daniel eagerly asked. “Well, I’m in my final year of studying so it’s been a bit much but I’m coping. How are things going for you ?” I replied. “Life is great. Can’t complain” he smiled proudly. “Still running your parent’s empire I suppose” I smiled. “Nothing has changed” he grinned.

“Good for you Dan. You’re living the dream” I half laughed. “I’m living the dream ?” He scoffed. “Yeah of course ! You’re travelling literally every other month, flying first class and living the good life” I said. “Yeah but you’re the one dating the football player !” He stated. “Speaking of him, let me just check how far he is” I paused to check my phone if perhaps Kylian called or messaged. Nothing.

Just as I locked my phone, my head turned when I heard a car rev in the distance, he’s here. “Oh look. There he is” I said as both of our heads snapped to Kylian pulling up beside us. Daniel leaned towards the car as Kylian rolled down the window, “Hey man, I’m Daniel” he introduced himself. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kylian” Kylian shook his hand. “Heard a lot about you. We should meet up soon, I’ll message (Y/N)” Daniel suggested. “Yeah sure” Kylian said lastly. “Take care bro” Daniel said before pulling me in for a hug. “Bye Dan. Until next time” I murmured. “Until then. Ciao” he said as his hand rubbed my back before breaking away from our hug.

I got into the car and immediately I could feel the tension in the air. “Hi baby” I smiled as I leaned in to kiss his cheek. He didn’t say anything or react, he just remained stiff. I knew what was coming and I wasn’t ready to face the drama for the umpteenth time. Choosing not to say anything in the car until we got home was the best decision. The second the door shut, he didn’t surprised me by being the one to bring it up. “What was that ?” He raised his voice. “What was what ?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Who even was that Daniel guy ? I was there for only a minute and I could see the way he was looking at you. You both seemed to enjoy that hug a little too much” he said. I scoffed, “Are you being serious right now ?”

“Do I look like I’m joking ?” He yelled annoyed. “You have honestly lost it !” I yelled as I turned my back on him and stormed towards our room. “(Y/N) I’m talking to you !” He yelled for me as he followed me to the room. “How the hell can you say we enjoyed that hug a little too much. Are you trying to call me a cheater ?” I raised my voice as I turned around to face him. “You’re just putting words into my mouth. My point is that if another person had seen you both together, they would think you’re a couple. I don’t want you seeing him again” he said.

“You know what Kylian ? I’m done” I huffed. “What do you mean done ?” He asked baffled. “I mean that I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue being in a relationship where my own boyfriend doesn’t even trust me or allows me to talk to other guy friends of mine without assuming I’m cheating. I’m living a lie by staying in this relationship. Go find yourself a girlfriend that you can control because I’m not that girl” I said before getting a bag and packing it with my belongings.

“Babe please don’t do this. I swear I’m not trying to control you. I’ll admit that I got jealous, okay ? But please don’t go. I love you so much, what will I do without you ?” he pleaded and tried to stop me from packing but I continued.

“No Kylian ! Today you literally crossed the line, I couldn’t care so much for the other guys you said I need to stop talking to, but the fact that Daniel and I go way back and now you want me to cut off our friendship ? He’s basically apart of my family because his parents and my parents are friends. Kylian…I’m so tired honestly of us going back and forth. It just bothers me that Daniel attempted to be your friend in that minute you met but instead you ignore all of that and insinuate that I cheated ? Get some help because I need a break from your shit…this has gone past jealousy” I said in anger, I didn’t have it in me to cry.

“(Y/N) please. I’ll change okay ? I’ll do better. But please don’t go. Please give me another chance” he begged. “Kylian I gave you way too many chances. I can’t believe how long I’ve dealt with this and didn’t leave sooner” I said as I zipped up my bag. “So that’s it ? You’re just going to throw away a 2 year relationship ?” He asked. “All I know right now is that we need space away from each other. I love you Kylian, I do, but I think it’s best for the both of us” I pressed my lips together as I threw my bag over my shoulder. “So we’re over ?” He asked teary eyed. “I- please don’t make this harder than it already is” my voice cracked as I looked up in hopes that my tears would disappear.

“Babe you can’t give up on us. We’re meant for each other” he said as he grabbed my hands and rubbed small circles at the back of them. “Kylian, consider this a break rather than a break up. We can both wisely use this time to focus on ourselves…if we’re meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other.”

Those were the last words I’ve said to him face-to-face. I left that night and ended up staying at my parent’s house. They were surprised to see me and were quick to ask where Kylian was, I just lied that he’s travelling for an away game. 2 weeks of staying with my parents raised suspicion and they figured out that something was wrong, my mom especially. I told my mom exactly what happened and luckily she took the hint to not talk about it.

Not a day passed that I didn’t receive a message from Kylian. Countless ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’ flooded my phone daily, it wasn’t easy taking this time to focus on myself when he was on my mind all day. Whilst making his message clear, he indirectly would ask for us to talk it out and as much as it hurts, I refused. No point in us getting back together if he’s going to go back to square one.

After about a week, I caved in and started replying back to his messages. Eventually easing in to phone calls and FaceTimes. It’s been 3 weeks since that day I called on a break, today I decided it’s time to meet and talk things out.

He seemed sincere and genuine when we met, of course I couldn’t help but give him another chance. We were meeting for one week as if we were in love all over again and after that one week, we’re back together.

Daniel was in town and he wanted to meet up, I happily accepted his lunch invite and was looking forward to rekindling our friendship. Kylian was at training so I thought I’d get ready in the meantime until he was back.

“Ma chérie !” He called as he entered. “In the room, Ky !” I yelled. He came into the room and whistled behind me. “You look beautiful” he said as he placed a kiss on my neck. “Thank you babe” I blushed. “Where are you going ?” He asked as he walked over to sit at the edge of the bed. “I’m going out for lunch with Daniel” I said casually. “Wait, what !” He asked as he stood up. “Why ? I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t see him ?” He said as he changed his tone. I dropped my mascara on the counter and stood up, “Are you back to this nonsense where I can’t have guy friends ?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Do you not know how the story goes about childhood guy friends falling for their girl friends ?” He stood up to stand arms length away from me. “No, Kylian ! That’s not how the story goes. Do you not know it takes two people to be in love which hello ? I’m obviously not.” I said as I started to grow angry. “(Y/N), you don’t know how a guys mind works” he said as he shut his eyes for a second. “Before I walk out of this relationship one more time, could you care to explain your reasoning behind why I can’t have guy friends ?” I raised a brow. His face softened when he heard me mention walking out.

“Babe please no . I’m sorry” he rushed over to me to hold my hands in his. I pulled my hands away from his grip, “Explain Kylian…I can’t continue entertaining this.” He sighed and dropped his head before mustering up the courage. “I have trust issues because of my ex” he admitted. I was shocked. “Well, what happened ?” I asked curiously.

“I trusted her and was never one to question anything she did until I found out she cheated on me with those guys she called her friends. Soo…I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst, I was heartbroken and felt betrayed. It’s been hard for me to accept having trust. It’s not you babe, I promise I trust you, I just fear that your guy friends will convince you to leave me and walk away from our relationship. I can’t bare losing you, not again after the break” he said as he got emo. “Aww Ky” I pouted as I pulled him in for a hug. We never left each others embrace for a few minutes until Kylian broke away to kiss my forehead.

“I’m glad I got that off my chest. You deserved to know. I love you so much and I’m sorry for my behaviour. I’m trying to be a better boyfriend for you after our break so please be patient with me” he pouted. “I get it now. Thank you for being honest babe” I gave him a quick peck on his lips. “You can go out with Daniel, I won’t stop you any longer” he sighed. “Look, as your girlfriend, I want to help you through this. Remember Daniel suggested you guys going out ? Well why don’t you join us, I’ll send him a message and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. That way you have an idea of what Daniel is like and you have a peace of mind. Also, it’s not just about trusting Daniel, I would like if you and Daniel could be friends. I mean the man is practically family” I half laughed before sending a message to Daniel. “Shame I feel bad now for hating on the guy” he sighed. “Well what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him” I winked then sent the message.

[arsenal-womens-1]

Your sister is

You were sitting in your room with your teammates you play from Barcelona u19s you are from England but you got an offer to play for Barcelona and you went for it your phone started to ring it was your coach

"Hey Sam can you come in a bit early tomorrow please "You look confused "Yeah can I ask why have i done something wrong " "You have done nothing wrong I just want you to meet someone " " ok see you tomorrow " " bye sam "

you get off the call and your teammates look confused "What's coach want " " he wants me to come in tomorrow " "Why what have you done now" "I don't know he wouldn't say " 

the next day

As coach asked i'm here early I wonder what it's about "Sam" I looked up to see coach and jonatan the manager of Barcelona women's team " hey sam can we talk " i sat there for a minute " yeah " yous go into the meeting room " sam we have been looking at the way you play and how you play and we would like to ask if you would like to be apart of the senior team " i sat there in shock " i would love to "

time skip a week you just got drooped off at the tranig ground i walk in to the entranced and i see some of the team they were looking at me jonatan walked up to me " hey sam how are you " " im ok a bit nevers "" youll be ok if you get stuck ask someone for help ok " " i will "

you get changed and go on to the feled no one on the team came up to you you didnt mied tho he introduced you to everyone and the first thing you were donig in training was working on your passes you were in a team of lucy kira alexia patricia amd sandra it was the end of training you hadnt talked to anyone you all when to the changing rooms

you go to your cub and get your bag you get changed you open you phone for a minute and see 3  missed calls from your sister you text her

" hey sis what you want" she texts back strat away " why didnt you tell me you had signed a contracted with barcolana " someone says your name so you put your phone down you look up and relise that it is alexia

" hey new be " you lok at her " yeah " " we all want to get to know the new player so we were wondering if you wanted to come over to one of our house and we will all meet there " " yeah "

5 hours later you are stud in front of lucy and kiras houes you knock on the door and lucy answers it " hey come in " you go in and go to were the rest are they all say hi mapia was the first to ask you a question " so sam how old are you and what's your last name " you look around you and see all eyes on you " " I'm 17 and my last name is erps " lucy is the first to talk “ i thought you looked familiar your Mary’s sister " you look around the room " yeah she’s my sister "

————————————————————————————

I know this is crap I wrote it about a year ago I’m trying to get ideas of what to write but so far I’ve got nothing so sorry

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (3)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 12.2k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: toxic relationship (not reader and jimin), arguments, cheating (not reader and jimin), talks about previous child abuse, anxiety attack, strong language, crying, emotional abuse (not reader and jimin), talks of bad parental relationships, abandonment issues, some PTSD, prescription medication use, mentions of depression and mental health, lots of angst in this one, finally making some progress though, age insecurity, mutual pining, lots of side character development in this one, they really are so sweet together, jimin just being the nicest boy in the world, so much PDA, physical touch is his love language 👀👀👀, writing this is so comforting even when its angsty lol, i think that's it, let me know if I missed something A/N: Hello hello. Probably my favorite chapter to date. Bad news is that I think this series might be a little longer than originally intended. My inability to just get to the point has things moving a little slow, but I'm trying my best. We'll have to see, though! Hope you enjoy reading :)

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Time went by quickly. Wednesday and Friday morning, Jimin and I met up to train for a few hours and then got breakfast together. When he asked if I wanted to work out with him in the evenings, I agreed. In the beginning, I had given him pointers, but after the second week came to a close, we had started exercising in silence. We spotted one another, made small talk, and went to dinner on the nights he did not go home to be with his parents. We got along and I was happy my overwhelming attraction to him had slowly calmed down.

I was still aware of his presence, the way he smelled, and how often he smiled and laughed, but I had grown used to seeing him walking around in barely anything at all. Hoseok called me a cougar whenever we had time to chat while Andy kept telling me to talk with Jimin about how I felt, but I had gotten very good at deflecting. Things were better and I was taking my wins whenever I could get them. Even if those wins meant I went home sexually frustrated and aching for someone to make it better.

Jimin was packing up for the night and I was getting ready to head out. He had plans with a large group of his friends, so I would have to figure out dinner by myself this time. He invited me but I politely declined. I could vaguely recall how rude his friends from that restaurant had been, and that one girl's mean glare. I had no interest in repeating that.

Giselle waved at me on her way out which I returned with a smile. She was a very sweet, college girl and getting to know her was fun. Her brother moved out here six years ago and was the only reason she left Memphis. In-State tuition and a rent-free bedroom was all it took to convince her to spend some quality time with her big brother and his dog, Lucky.

She and Sam were the closest, but I would often see her eating lunch with Megan when he was with a client. Everyone was making bets on when they would eventually hook up, but I was convinced that had already happened and they were keeping it a secret from the nosy staff.

"See you tomorrow," Yoongi called out from across the room, seemingly appearing out of thin air.

He was out of eyesight before I could reply.

"Bye Yoon," Giselle sing-songed anyway, shoving her ear buds in and leaving before the door could close behind Yoongi. "Night guys!"

As the young woman said, Yoongi and Megan were the two most important people to befriend. Not just for massages either. The both of them were hilarious and kept the back fridge stocked with our favorite snacks. On the mornings I did not have time to eat breakfast, Megan stopped and got me a muffin and coffee from her favorite cafe. If I needed someone to help me out in the pool, Yoongi was always happy to offer himself for the job. It was challenging for me to focus on my swimming when Jimin was around, and I would often come in early to get a quick work out in before he got here.

“You okay getting home?” Jimin asked.

We had come together tonight, and he had offered to drive us in his truck. I had grown very fond of the green machine, which Jimin affectionately called Fiona, and I jumped at the chance to get in his passenger seat. We were usually riding around in my car since it was better on gas.

“Yeah, I’m riding with Sam.”

Sam and I had grown close as well. He was super funny and always down to hang out with me if I showed up by myself. On the odd Sunday I felt like getting out of the house, I found myself at the gym with Sam. I was currently attempting to teach him how to swim and always filled in for Yoongi on the weekends.

Jimin nodded, “Good. See you this weekend?”

I smiled, “Can’t miss your big party.”

Jimin’s 24th birthday was on the 13th and his family liked to go big. Eloise was clearing out an entire section in their restaurant for all of us, and I had found myself teamed up with Taehyung to help with the planning. Na-Yeon put everything in his hands since she was not feeling up to the task this year. I only agreed to help when I realized just how overboard the snowboarder would go if no one was there to reel him back in. So far, I had placed the responsibility of decorating, music, and organizing the gift table on my shoulders. James had pulled me aside and thanked me when he found out. Apparently, he was also worried about Taehyung’s enthusiasm. 

“It should be fun,” He nodded. “I’m going to head out.”

“See you tomorrow,” We had finally started coming 5 days a week. "We're working on your turns. Butterflies, too. Be prepared.”

He groaned, “You’re torturing me, coach.”

I laughed, “Is the baby upset?”

“Very,” He winked. My mouth went dry. Sometimes I felt silly for getting nervous around him, especially when I knew he flirted with everyone. I was not special. “See you Saturday.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I stared at his retreating back. “See you.”

Jimin’s birthday passed quietly. We had a great time and ate well. Taehyung got drunk enough to suggest karaoke once we cleared out the place for the night, and he and Na-yeon had all of us cracking up. I finally met Jungkook’s girlfriend, a pretty girl who did not talk very much, and I could feel the tension between the two of them. Jimin said that was just how they were and to ignore it.

After Jungkook successfully shoved Jimin's face into his cake, we opened presents. The boys got him tons of workout clothes and gear, Eloise bought him a new blender, and his parents both chipped in to get the new video game he had been talking about picking up.

I gifted him a bottle of his favorite cologne after Na-Yeon mentioned he was out. Jo Malone was the most distracting thing in my life right now, its scent clinging to the passenger side of my car most days and driving me insane if Jimin stood too close. Still, it was something I did not think I could part with now. Jimin was happy with the present and hugged me after opening it. I was positive I had this stupid grin on my face for the rest of the night.

By Halloween we were in the gym every day, save Sunday and the occasional Saturday when Jimin needed some time to rest. We both kept our word, our conversation at the restaurant we went to with Jungkook and Taehyung sticking better than I thought it would. Overtime he got more confident when asking for a break and I was a professional at picking up on his body language. We were a good team, and I was confident he would be in great shape for the Olympics.

It was mid-November now and Taehyung had finally gotten around to getting us together for the sushi date in Detroit. I had just gotten out of the shower when Jimin messaged he was going to come along. His mom had a rough Sunday and could not go to their usual dance class, so he had stayed with her instead. He looked worn out when he walked inside the pool room Monday morning so instead of training, I just sent him home. We were meeting back up on Wednesday to get back to work, but it seemed Jungkook’s nagging finally convinced him to come out with the rest of us.

My relationships with his friends had also started to improve. Taehyung had added me to their group chat a few weeks back and I had tried to keep up with them as often as I could remember to. It was not difficult. They text so often I had to silence notifications for the chat, but I had to admit they were really funny. Jungkook especially.

I was happy to spend time with everyone and getting out of the house sounded nice. Violet and Calvin were great, and I did enjoy eating dinner with them sometimes, but I would be lying if I said they would be my first choice to spend time with.

I had grown close enough with Taehyung during the partying planning that his bubbly, over the top personality had become more endearing than overwhelming. We had gone to lunch a few times together, his boldness only increasing with each meet up, and he could hold me hostage for hours if I let him. Milo was typically my saving grace, and Taehyung would leave with a wet kiss to my cheek and promises of the same time next week.

Tae: Y/N should pick you up

Jimin: Why???

Kookie: Your truck is ass

I chuckled and sent off a text of my own before going to my dresser to find something warm to wear. 

Me: I don’t mind driving

Me: Don’t hate on the truck. I like it.

My phone chimed a few times but I ignored it for now. I knew I wanted to wear a pair of dark, navy jeans. It was freezing outside so a long sleeve was a must, but I could get away with just two layers. My hands found a mustard-yellow turtleneck and I smiled. I could wear my brown boots with it. Happy with my outfit, I checked on the chat.

Jimin: U sure?

Tae: The truck is GREEN

Tae: Already a crime

Kookie: It can’t go over 60

Darcy: omg stop blowing my phone up 

Darcy: just ride with her dude

Jimin: Y/N?

I rolled my eyes. I hated when he did that. Jimin had the habit of double and triple checking in with someone. It was sweet but it also drove me insane. There was nothing more I disliked than repeating myself, especially if I already agreed to something. 

Me: I’ll pick you up in 30, k?

Jimin: Thanks

Darcy: Was that so hard?

I frowned. So, Darcy was in a bad mood then. Shouldn't take it out on Jimin, I thought. Even if she was having a bad day, something that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with her, it doesn't mean she can just talk to people like that. Fighting the urge to give into my annoyance and call her out, I tossed my phone on my bed and made myself finish getting ready.

Walking into the living room, I went on a hunt for the jacket I wanted to wear. It was the same color as my leather boots with sherpa trim. It would tie everything together and, I hoped, would keep Taehyung from complaining too much about the “offensive” color of my shirt. He had a hard time accepting anything in the yellow or green family. Finding it on the sofa, I nodded and left it be. I would grab it on my way out. 

It took me more time to get my hair figured out than anything, but once I gave up and did the same thing that I did every day, it worked itself. After that, I put on a little bit of makeup since I figured it would not take me very long. This was a casual outing with friends and the dim lights of the sushi place would give me some grace if things were not perfect. A nice base, simple eye look, and a layer of mascara already had me looking more awake than I had in months. After applying a layer of lip gloss and a misting of setting spray, I was out of the door, jacket keeping me warm, and purse tucked under my arm. 

I drove in silence, like I always did, and pulled onto the curb of Jimin’s house. Sending a text to the chat, I waited for him to come out. I was a few minutes later than I said I would be, but Jimin found a way to be late for everything, so I did not feel that bad about it. Taehyung and Milo were already on leaving Ann Arbor, and Jungkook and Darcy riding with them. They would only beat us there by fifteen minutes or so, but I hoped he would hurry up and come outside. Taehyung worked hard for those reservations.

My phone vibrated and I stared at the little device in my cup holder. It was weird how my anxiety fluctuated on a daily basis. Back home, I could talk on the phone and hold a conversation behind the wheel, but ever since I came to Michigan it felt like I had taken three massive steps back. Taking a few deep breaths, I told myself that I was safe. I was parked, completely stationary, and no one was around. No traffic meant no accidents. Sucking in a harsh breath, I picked it up.

Jimin: Be out in a sec

Jimin: Just making sure mom is okay

He had not left his mother’s house in days. I was worried about Na-Yeon, but I had to believe that Jimin would tell me if something was seriously wrong with her. I had truly started to feel connected with the woman. We joked over dinner and I found myself helping her out more and more each time I came by. It would devastate me if she passed away without me knowing how bad it had gotten. 

Me: Take your time

He came out only two minutes later. Wearing a heavy, black puffy jacket and tight pants, Jimin leisurely walked over and got into the car. His cologne hit me as soon as the door opened, and I bit my lip, trying to hide the deep inhale I took. Jo fucking Malone.

He smiled at me but otherwise kept quiet as I drove. He knew I had a difficult time behind the wheel and tried his best to keep conversation light. While I normally appreciated the sentiment, I did not want to make him sit in silence for 45 minutes. Opening and closing my mouth a few times, I struggled to come up with a good conversation topic.

We often bounced from idea to idea, mostly sticking to swimming and music, and I always found our little talks to be very insightful. Movies and tv shows had been fun to bond over, a small generational gap introducing us to shit we had never heard of before. There were so many things I could bring up, things that Jimin would jump at the idea to talk about. Still, I could not find my voice.

“So,” I started, awkwardly, trying to push past the blockade of anxiety. “Is this place as good as Tae says or is he going off on one of his rants again?”

Jimin chuckled softly. “It’s pretty good, but it’s still just sushi. Taehyung finds a way to make everything sound extravagant.”

We shared a quiet laugh. 

“It was nice of him to invite me,” My hands gripped the wheel tighter. We were starting to approach more populated areas. “He didn’t have to do that.”

Jimin snorted childishly, the sound relaxing me ever so slightly. If there was one thing I hated was driving at night. I was lucky the snow had stopped falling yesterday afternoon and the roads were clear, but a part of me wished I had asked Jimin to drive.

Traffic in Saline was lighter than any town back in Colorado, and driving around was a breeze in comparison. At home, you were lucky if there was only one accident a day, but more times than not I had been stuck on the interstate for hours because of multiple car crashes. Michigan felt less hectic; safer. Not safe enough to let my guard down, but safe enough to listen to Jimin when he spoke.

“Taehyung is just that kind of guy.”

I nodded; eyes glued to the road. I wanted to say something and keep our conversation flowing, but the more cars around us the more I tuned him out. My eyes flickered between my rearview mirror, side mirrors, and windshield rapidly as I drove. Once we were out of Saline and on I-94, I loosened my grip on the wheel. We would not hit much traffic until we were closer to Detroit.

Jimin stayed quiet and looked out the window. I wanted to thank him for being so understanding, but I knew he would not want me to. I kept my thoughts to myself and focused on the road. Jimin began to hum an unfamiliar tune.

My hands were shaking when we pulled up to the restaurant. Traffic had gotten pretty bad coming into the city, but we had picked a good day to come out. Jimin hummed and sang underneath his breath for most of the car ride, and we had a few small sporadic conversations when I felt the knots in my stomach loosen for a few brief moments.

"It's been forever since I've come here," Jimin said to himself, going to unbuckle his seat belt. "It looks pretty filled up."

Bash was a sushi place across from Wayne State University's football field and was one Taehyung’s favorite restaurants. He bragged about how delicious their food was for weeks before finally wearing me down with the promise of picking up the tab. He made reservations for their omakase, or “chef’s choice,” and promised I would get his obsession.

When I talked to Megan about it, she had said it was an expensive meal, so I was going to try and force myself to enjoy it regardless of my own personal feelings. Jimin seemed to like it here, and we usually enjoyed a lot of the same foods, so it made me feel a bit better about things.

I had to park down the street and spotted Taehyung’s Mazda a few cars away. Instead of getting out, I took a few moments to gather my composure. Jimin sat beside me patiently. He had grown used to my traffic anxiety. We had driven together so many times now, and he had gotten a taste of the worst of it a handful of times.

He had only asked about it the first time we rode to the gym together, completely frazzled and unsure of himself as I hyperventilated in the driver's seat. My hands trembled violently as my palms sweat profusely, and I let myself shed a few tears once we were parked. He reached out, placing a hand on my back, and quietly asked me what was bothering me.

“Red light,” I managed to wheeze out. They were doing some construction on the main road and things started piling up. I had gotten stuck in the intersection for just a few seconds, but it was long enough to send me into a blind panic. “Anxiety. Sorry. Need a minute.”

He helped me calm down, calming down to help me through my panic attack. We played a game of I-Spy, Jimin picking out the most obvious shit and saying the most random things to point out in order to make me laugh. When I felt a little better, he got out of the car to help me get out. After that he kept quiet about my obvious driving discomforts, but stuck close just in case I needed the support, and always offered to drive.

“Ready?” He asked when I grabbed my phone out of the cup holder.

“Yeah.”

We walked inside and the hostess made light conversation while she walked us to the back. Taehyung's laugh could be heard from the other side of the room, and his bright blue hair and vibrant eyeshadow stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. Milo was dressed in all black, his arm draped around his fiancé's shoulder, and a smile on his face. Jungkook was beside him scrolling through his phone, but Darcy was nowhere in sight. Glancing at Jimin, he seemed exasperated.

“Trouble in paradise,” He murmured, leaning down so I could hear him. I had to imagine their relationship was very exhausting and took its toll on their friend group. I knew how much it sucked being caught between Tilly and Hobi back in the day. “Here we fucking go.”

Taehyung jumped out of the booth when he caught sight of us, his fluffy, white cropped top riding up, revealing even more of his tanned skin. The snowboarder wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled my hairline, showering me in compliments. Gold hoop earrings tapped my forehead, and his belly button ring was cold against my ribcage. He was happy to see me “dolled up” for once and forgave how ugly my shirt was since I looked “so cute.”

Milo gave me a slight wave, eyes never leaving Taehyung's bouncing body as he embraced Jimin, and Jungkook put his phone down to greet us. Darcy had gone to the bathroom and from the look on Milo’s face, Jimin’s was right about trouble in paradise. Whatever was going on, we were all about to fall witness. It made my stomach churn just thinking about it.

Our waitress brought a new pot of tea, asking us if we needed anything, before leaving with the promise of the first course coming out soon. Darcy almost slammed into the poor woman on her way back to our booth, her annoyed huff making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When she sat down beside her boyfriend her entire body was rigged and face pulled together tightly. She did not spare us a glance as she sulked.

Darcy was a very beautiful girl and it made sense why Jungkook liked her so much. Tanned skin, green eyes, and black hair, the girl had one of those bodies most women would pay thousands of dollars for. Like Taehyung had said, she was a pleasant enough person, and we did not along well enough to hold a conversation, but there was no hiding the fact that Darcy was not a nice girl. In fact, I would venture to say she was very, very mean.

I saw it firsthand at Jimin’s birthday party. I had a moment where I felt myself panicking. Overwhelmed with all of the noise and people, I excused myself and called Andy to get my head back on straight. The women's restroom was tucked away in a small hallway and allowed me the space to shed a few tears. I was just starting to calm down, Andy's words of encouragement getting back to some sort of baseline, while I rubbed cold water on my neck. That was when I heard Jungkook on the other side of the door.

He was angry and when I told Andy I needed to go, I had every intention of going out there to talk to him, but another voice beat me to it. Darcy had been in a bad mood since she walked through the front door, her shitty attitude bringing down the party every time she opened her mouth. At first, I just brushed it off as an off night, something I could feel empathy towards, but then she opened her mouth and stopped those thoughts in their tracks.

The two of them were serial cheaters, and Jimin had alluded to that being their main issue when I asked about her attitude problem earlier that night. Eloise was the person who gave me the whole story and was not afraid to voice her dislike for the older girl. This was different from Milo, a guy who she clashed with due to their night and day personalities. Darcy had actively picked on and made fun of her growing up, and bullied her older sister while they were in school together.

Darcy, according to Eloise, started the back-and-forth cheating when they were in college. Instead of going their separate ways, something I doubt anyone would have blamed Jungkook for doing, he chose to get even. After fucking one of her sorority sisters, Jungkook made his way through the entire house within the span of three months. In retaliation, Darcy slept with a couple of guys from the NHL, something she still did to this day.

On the night of the party, she was still fuming over catching him with another woman a few days prior. Trapped in the bathroom and too afraid to let them know I could hear them; I suffered through five minutes of a couple’s quarrel I had no business being in the middle of. It was an eye opener for sure and made me avoid getting too close to either of them.

Darcy was very mean and spiteful, her words meant to cut him deeply with little care about how it would make him feel in the long run. She even brought up screwing one of his rivals to get back at him, something she had done on numerous occasions, and went as far as to compare the two men in bed. It helped to explain why Jungkook hated Jackson Wang so much.

Jungkook, despite how much I enjoyed him as an individual, was just as awful. He spent most of the argument defending his bad behavior by bringing up her own and took no accountability for his actions. He could have sex with all of Michigan and it would be justified because she cheated on him first. It was all very juvenile, and I tried my best to avoid them for the rest of the night.

“Bet they can’t go ten minutes without fighting,” Jimin mumbled in my ear.

I fought back a smile, leaning into his side. Physical touch was the swimmer’s love language and I had slowly grown accustomed to small touches here and there. So, it did not catch me off guard when his arm came around my shoulders, resting just above my head, hand gently brushing against my neck. The voice in my head often wished he would do it more often.

“She won’t start something before the food gets here,” I reasoned, stealing a look at the couple. Jungkook seemed fine, but from the look on Darcy’s face that might change soon. “I’ll say twenty.”

“What are we bargaining for?”

I laughed awkwardly, “Whatever you want.”

Taking a second to think, Jimin eyed the couple across the table. Taehyung and Milo were obviously extremely aware of the couple's awkward tension and tactfully ignored them, instead giggling about some inside joke. They were a very sweet pair. My weariness about Milo had dissipated over the last few weeks, but I could understand why he and Eloise could not get along.

Lou herself had admitted to being a bit of a stuck-up teenager back in the day, and Milo was the typical small-town stoner. They constantly butt heads when they were in high school, and just drifted apart with age. Taehyung and Jimin's friendship were the only reason they were in the same circle anymore, and the two just never spoke to avoid pressing buttons.

“I want to do something together,” Jimin finally said, I smiled, trying to ignore the snarky comments Darcy was making. The arguing was starting, and I felt my neck growing hot. Did they have to do this in public? “Get dinner or something.”

“We do that all the time,” I countered, half-heartedly paying attention to him.

“Denny’s doesn’t count," He mumbled.

The waitress finally came back with a large tray of sushi in her hand. That seemed to break up the argument momentarily, but Darcy did not seem pleased to be interrupted. Stuffing a large piece of ahi sashimi in my mouth, I sparked up a conversation with Taehyung to keep myself from having another meltdown. Beside him, Milo sent me a grateful look.

The rest of the table was silent, waiting for the fight to resume. Taehyung kept smiling painfully, but I could see the panic bubbling in his eyes, and for once I saw a small crack in his otherwise well-crafted facade. 

“I didn’t mean just getting food,” Jimin finally continued when we hit a lull, and it took me a few seconds to remember what he was talking about. “I meant… going out.”

I looked at him, eyebrow raised. His cheeks were puffed with scallops and I wished we were alone. This was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of the others, especially if he was insinuating what I thought he was. I did not want to jump to conclusions, but I was sure he was asking me out on a date. Even if it made me feel jittery thinking about it, I had a difficult time finding the voice to say yes. Saying no felt just as impossible, though, and I wished he would have picked a better time to bring this up. Whatever the hell this was.

“What are you asking me?” I whispered, taking another piece of fish off my plate, sneaking a look at Taehyung and Milo.

They were too wrapped up in one another to being listening in on us. I did not even bother checking in with the other two. I knew for a fact they did not care about anybody else but themselves.

“You know,” He replied.

Dating was not off the table, and I was more than happy to indulge myself, but I was worried about crossing this invisible line I had drawn. What would people say if they found out? A coach and her trainee, and even worse, the older woman and her much younger man. I could see the headlines now and it made my palms sticky. That would not be a good look for either one of us, and I did not want our personal relationship to affect Jimin’s career.

Putting my chopsticks down, I leaned away from him. “Can we talk about this later?”

He nodded, meeting my eyes, and I was relieved to see he was not upset. I had seen him angry a few times now, and he wore it on his sleeve with pride. Jimin was not afraid of his emotions, something I found extremely attractive, and it was nice that all I could see right now was understanding. Whatever happened he would hear me out, and I had to hope he would be understanding. I just had to be sure I did not fuck anything up.

Across the table the bickering had started again. Our waitress brought out the rest of our meal, sans desert, and seemed happy we were enjoying the food. She eyed Darcy wearily and left our table in a hurry. I felt horrible for the wait staff who had come to our table. They were all getting the nastiest looks from the dark haired beauty.

“Do we really have to do this now?” Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair roughly. His face was red and expression tight. “In front of my friends, dude? Are you serious?”

I cleared my throat, grabbed my tea and took a long sip before sinking into the booth and praying no one could see me. Jimin’s arm dropped, and he squeezed my shoulder in comfort. I let myself melt under his touch. It always felt nice when his hands were on me, his warmth burning hot like a furnace even in below freezing temperatures. Taehyung’s eyes were bulging out of his head now, his bottom lip trembling as he tried his best to keep the conversation between the four of us light. He had stopped trying to include the other two.

“You two seem close,” He gritted, fakeness coming from him that I had never encountered before. “Glad you were able to sort that out.”

I looked over at Jimin and saw his cheeks had gone pink. So, Taehyung knew something I didn’t. It would make sense for the childhood best friend to get the scoop before the chick he’s known for two months, I had definitely vented to my friends on more than one occasion, and my curiosity was peaked.

“I'm working on it,” Jimin replied, taking a big gulp of water. “Thanks, Tae," He breathed, rolling his eyes.

I stifled a laugh. He was so cute when he was embarrassed. I made a mental note to ask Tae to explain what he meant when we had a chance to get lunch. I had a feeling the snowboarder would be more than happy to divulge that little piece of information. 

“Talking about me to your friends?” I teased, trying my best to ignore the ever-growing argument across from me. The butterflies in my stomach were a helpful distraction. “Good things, I hope.”

He cracked a smile, face and neck flushed. “The best things.”

Such a flirt.

I bit my lip and looked away. Eating was a nice way to interrupt the electricity that was enveloping us, and I gorged myself on octopus and tuna. Whatever the hell these dishes were, I had to admit the sushi here was the best I had ever had. I would never doubt a recommendation from Taehyung again.

The conversation started flowing easily after that. Jungkook and Darcy were at a stalemate and were relatively quiet on their side of the booth. With the atmosphere lightening, Milo felt good enough to start telling us his latest work stories. He was a firefighter along with all three of his brothers. His father was promoted to chief about five years ago but was coming up to his retirement. The only one of his siblings to avoid the fireman fate was his baby sister, but had still managed to find a job at the station.

"You guys must be close," I laughed in disbelief.

“It’s the family business,” He joked. "Rosie is our new EMT."

Taehyung spoke excitedly about his upcoming competitions and was really hopeful he would win enough to qualify for the Olympics this year. Milo and Jimin both reassured him multiple times while I tried my best to keep up with everything he was talking about. I had very little knowledge of snowboarding, so I was having to constantly interrupt and ask for clarification. No one seemed to mind, and eventually Jungkook joined in to talk about his upcoming hockey games.

The Red Wings were having a good year, and he was proud of his team for working as hard as they did. As a goalie, he did not do a lot of skating, but his job was one of the hardest on the team. From what I knew after watching a few games on tv with Jimin's family, Jungkook was one of the best goalies in the NHL who was highly sought after. He had been offered millions to transfer to the New York Rangers, but out of loyalty he turned them down.

“I’ll take you to a few matches if you want,” Jimin offered. “Kook can get us tickets whenever.”

I smiled, “That sounds like fun.”

“Milo and I go all of the time so we can sit together,” Taehyung interjected, his shoulders relaxed for the first time since we got here.

Darcy was quiet and stayed on her phone. Jungkook was pretending she was not here, and it helped keep the arguing from starting again. I was not sure how long the truce would last, but I hoped they could hold it together long enough for us to finish eating.

“So Y/N,” Milo mused, taking a piece of fish from Taehyung’s plate. “Have you ever thought about competing again?”

I laughed nervously, “For a time, maybe. My injuries make it hard for me to swim the way I used to so I decided to keep it as a hobby.”

It was not a complete lie, but I knew I might be able to get back into competitions if I put in the time and effort. I hated the thought of being back in the spotlight, cameras shoved in my face, only to lose and give them more to talk about. I was still recovering from the trauma they inflicted on me after the accident. My leg injuries just gave me the perfect excuse to keep my distance.

He nodded, eyebrows knitted, “I didn’t know you had medical leave. What happened?”

Jimin tensed up beside me. 

“I was in a car accident,” I replied. Talking about what happened did not bother me as much as it used to, and Milo seemed genuinely interested in the answer. “I had to get a full knee replacement on my left side, and a full hip replacement. I should have lost my leg, but the doctor on staff recognized me and brought up my profession.”

Milo whistled, giving me a sympathetic look. “Leg? You could have died.”

“Well,” I breathed, finishing off my last piece of fish. “I pulled through though, so it wasn’t all bad.” I fiddled with my shirt, pretending to smooth it down as I played it cool. "Anyway, I have nerve damage in my leg that makes me get really horrible cramps and twitching if I overwork my muscles. It sucks but coaching is really fun, so I can't complain."

Blatantly lying wasn't something I did often, but I truly hated reliving the months of physical therapy. Unable to walk or talk, I was stuck in that hospital bed for weeks and then got sent home to watch my closest friends wait on me hand-and-foot. When I wasn’t in physical therapy, I was with my SLP. When I wasn’t with her then I was in bed, crying into my pillow, and wishing I had never woken up. It was an extremely dark time in my life, one filled with chronic pain and overwhelming depression, and talking about it made me emotional. 

“Anyway,” Taehyung sent his fiancé a pointed look. “Kookie’s next home game is in two weeks.”

Happy to be out of the spotlight, I began to talk with Jimin about changing our schedule around so we could attend the game. Taehyung was excited to get me some Red Wing merchandise, and Jungkook quickly began to boast about his prowess on the ice. Darcy scoffed beside him and I felt the group tense up.

“You’re so cocky, Ian,” She taunted, eyes glued to her phone. “I heard Avalanche was doing really well this season.”

I knew from the group chat that the Red Wings and the Colorado Avalanche had a long-standing rivalry. It had started all the way back in the mid-90’s and reached its peak in 2002. While the intensity had dissipated over the years, it had recently spiked up again due to Jungkook and Jackson Wang’s ongoing feud. The only reason Darcy would bring that up would be to piss her boyfriend off. 

“Hm,” Jungkook smirked, chuckling darkly. “Who told you that?”

I held my breath, already guessing where this was going. The tension from earlier was thicker than ever as we fell silent. Darcy put her phone on the table, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and looked Jungkook in the face as she replied.

“Jackson.”

It was dead silent for a few seconds. Then, without waiting for a response, Darcy kept digging the knife in and twisting. She called him ugly, said he sucked in bed, brought up all of the ways Jackson was better than he was, and went as far as to bring up his father's affair. Jungkook could not get a word in as her silky voice dropped lower and lower, words cutting deeper and deeper, and eyes growing brighter as she watched his expression fall. I learned something tonight. Darcy enjoyed hurting Jungkook.

"Why are you doing this, dude?" Jungkook's voice was thick with emotion. "You're acting like a fucking child. It's embarrassing."

“Holy shit,” Milo groaned as their voices got louder. “Are they being forreal right now?”

“Babe,” Taehyung scolded, the forced smile still plastered on his face. “Language.”

“You weren’t embarrassed when you fucked that girl” Darcy screamed and I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Why should I feel bad about airing out my dirty laundry? Everyone here knows how much of a whore I am anyway, isn’t that right, Ian?”

“Keep your voice down,” Jungkook hissed, eyes glassy. “You’re causing a scene.”

Taehyung and Milo looked as mortified as I felt, both of them staring at Darcy in horror. The entire restaurant had gone silent. Eyes were glued to our table as they argued. She shouted about him getting his dick sucked in their bed, and Jungkook was just angry she was acting like this in public. It was Jimin’s birthday all over again only this time they knew people were watching and did not care. Taehyung’s smile was finally gone and replaced by trembling lips and fidgeting hands.

“Take that shit outside,” Jimin cut in, voice cold and hard. Darcy glared daggers in our direction. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”

Darcy opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the waitress coming back and demanding our party leave. Taehyung began to apologize profusely while Darcy stormed out of the restaurant, bumping into numerous people roughly without looking back. Jungkook was hot on her heels, breathing heavily, and eyes glossed over with unshed tears. She shouted that Jackson was outside and for Jungkook to go fuck himself. Jungkook didn’t reply but I knew he was not expecting the other man to be here. I sure the fuck wasn't.

An arm wrapped around my shoulders, “Hey, calm down. Breathe.”

I had not realized I had been holding my breath. Turning my head, I was taken aback by how close Jimin was. Our noses brushed together, his breath hot against my cheek, and I jerked away, heart racing. The butterflies were swarming now, and a shiver went down my spine. His arm dropped and I immediately missed its warmth. Flustered, I scooted out of the booth and kept my head hung low. I was so embarrassed, and I could hear Taehyung’s voice starting to wobble as he handed over some cash to the waitress for the trouble. No one was going home happy tonight. 

“I’m so fucking pissed off,” Jimin grunted, keeping in step with me. Milo was attempting to get a now hysterical Taehyung calmed as they followed behind us. “I don’t know why Tae invites the two of them anywhere.”

I shook my head, “It’s not his fault. She needs to get some self-control, though. That was so rude and uncalled for, and for what?"

“They both owe him a fucking apology,” He sighed harshly.

The guests of honor were already in a very heated screaming match when we finally made it outside. Whatever had been brewing inside had clearly reached its peak, and neither one of them was willing to back down. Jimin’s arm was back around my shoulders as he tried his best to shelter me from the strong winds that were kicking up. Looking at Darcy and Jungkook all I could see were my parents and it caused me great discomfort. Maybe I should try to call my dad again and make sure he was alright? He rarely answered but at least it would cut some of the edge off of my anxiety.

“Why are you acting like this?” Jungkook shouted, pulling at his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”

“You!” Darcy shrieked. “You! You! YOU! You’re the problem. This is all your fault!”

Jungkook called her a crazy bitch and Darcy slapped him across the face before stomping off. A sleek red convertible was waiting for her on the curb, a well-groomed man behind the steering wheel. He smiled and waved at Jungkook before speeding off, Darcy already attaching her lips to his neck and not sparing any of us a second glance.

“What the fuck!” Taehyung shouted, sobbing and clinging to Milo. 

I was surprised he was able to hold himself back for that long. He seemed hellbent on strangling Jungkook as soon as he was able. I stepped to the side watching a man I had never seen upset shove Jungkook backwards. Any resemblance of a smile was gone now, replaced with a snot-nosed, red eyed man with bared teeth. Jungkook stumbled, barely keeping his footing before shoving the other man back. Milo was quick to defend his fiancé, pushing Jungkook so hard he stumbled, fell on his ass, and cried out in pain. 

Jimin’s arm gripped me tighter as he stared at the scene unfold in silence. His clenched jaw, however, told me how angry he was. I briefly wondered what he would be doing if he was not so focused on keeping me warm.

“That was so fucked up,” Taehyung cried, wiping his face roughly. “I told you both to keep that shit at home or don’t come!”

“She started it! It’s not my fault-”

“Dude,” Milo shook his head, wrapping his arms around Taehyung. “It doesn’t fucking matter. That’s your girl.”

As the three of them argued, I tried to decipher the look on Jimin’s face. He was angry, that was very apparent, and I felt my own anger finally start to rise. He had been dealing with so much shit and on his first night out in ages this happens? It was unfair and ridiculous, my frustration over the entire situation making me want to go over and push Jungkook around, too. However, I knew that was not the way to handle this. Truth was, he was not the only person to blame for how badly the night had ended. Darcy was the main instigator.

“Are you okay?” I asked Jimin, stepping away from his tight embrace. His arm was still around my shoulders with no sign of moving. “I’m sorry everything got so shitty.”

He nodded, face softening when he looked at me. “Just worried about Taehyung. He was really excited about tonight.”

The yelling was finally starting to calm down and I was happy that they were talking things out. I did not think I could handle the screaming for any longer. I had been a bundle of nerves since I left my house, and my fingers trembled at my sides. I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head, though I was positive it was distorted after so many years. Sometimes when her and dad fought, she would find me hiding in my closet and pull me out, hands leaving my skin tender from the harsh grip she had on my arms, before telling me to clean up the broken dishes from off the floor.

“Come here you little shit!”

She hated me; hated being a mother. I could remember how much I wished she would hold me like the other kids' moms held them but was too afraid to ask. One time I drew a picture of her at school and she never even looked at it. Instead, she smoked her cigarettes at the dinner table and watched Law and Order. If I really thought about it, she threw the drawing away. It was too dirty. Just like I was too dirty.

Mom had germaphobia and considered me one of the dirtiest things she had ever seen. I was not allowed in their bedroom because of it. Dad went along with it like he did everything else. When he wasn’t drinking, he was sleeping or in the garage. I hoped he was doing okay. Danielle seemed to be just as controlling as mom had been.

“Where’d you go?”

I startled, whipping around to find Jimin staring at me. His expression was gentle and calm, and I was suddenly aware of the harsh chill nipping at my wet cheeks. I had not noticed I was starting to cry. Strange. It had been a long time since those memories had been brought up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing my arm. “You looked lost.”

I nodded, quickly reaching up to pat the tears away. It was a good thing my mascara was smudge proof or else I might look even more pathetic. I am 31 now and it felt stupid to cry over things so far in the past. Things I had not had to deal with in well over 20 years. Dr.Wolfe would disagree with me, but she wasn't here.

“Yeah,” I nodded, voice thick. “Just zoned out for a second. Eyes must have dried out.”

It was a bad lie, but a lie he accepted. Squeezing my arm one last time, he finally moved away to give me a bit of breathing room. That was another thing that I always appreciated about the guy. He never overstayed his welcome, even if he wanted to. Taking a second to compose myself, I mindlessly fixed my hair and adjusted my clothes. Nervous habit.

“I think everyone’s heading home for the night,” Jimin said, nodding his head toward the other three men. “They seem cool. You ready to leave?”

I shrugged, “If you are.”

He nodded and walked over to the ground. I gave myself another moment to gather my thoughts. The worst of it was over and I doubted those memories would make themselves known again. With the screaming over it would not take long for my head to get itself straightened out. I might ask Jimin to drive us back, though. I was exhausted, and frankly, I did not think we would be safe if I was behind the wheel. Nothing worse than an anxious driver.

Jungkook was ashamed of their behavior tonight, and when I joined the others, he was quick to throw a million apologies in my direction. I accepted them all easily but knew it would take me a few days to fully forgive him. Tonight was a lot. Hopefully I could speak with Taehyung privately and ask him not to invite the couple out with us. If I never had to see Darcy again it would make my stay that much easier.

“I think we’re going to go home,” Milo said once Jungkook walked away. He was planning on calling an Uber so Tae could have a bit of space. “My little flower is burned out for the night.”

I smiled sadly, “Are you sure? We can always try something else.”

Taehyung’s head snapped in my direction and I wanted to scoop him up in my arms. His face was puffy from crying and eyes still misty. He was quick to nod his head and reached out to take hold of my hands.

“You still want to hang out with me?” He whimpered.

I had only said it to cheer him up not thinking that he would actually go for the idea. I had never seen him so distraught before and Milo seemed convinced that he was over having fun. Stealing a look at the blonde, he gave me a grateful smile but otherwise kept a watchful eye on Taehyung.

“Of course I do,” I finally replied, squeezing his large hands. “Tonight wasn’t your fault.”

His lower lip started to wobble again and next thing I knew I was in a very tight, warm hug. Taehyung cried into the crook of my neck. He was worried I would not like him anymore because of the fight. I awkwardly hugged him back, hoping my calm reassurances would soothe him. We really needed to get from outside the front of this restaurant before they called the cops. 

“It’s alright,” I said, trying to gently remove his arms from my waist. “We’re still friends, I promise.”

After another minute of crying, Taehyung was back in Milo’s arms. His face was red, and his nose was running, but the sobs had stopped. Jimin placed a hand on my lower back and started to bounce a few ideas off of Milo. It was late, but from the sound of things, our get together was not over. I could not say for certain if this was a good thing or not, I did need to have that talk with Jimin. If we were out too late there was no way for me to promise I would not pass out in the car.

“Uh,” Jimin thought for a second. “If we’re still hungry there’s Pie Sci and Woodbridge is right down the street. There's also that park a few blocks away."

I shrugged, “Whatever’s the best?” Looking at Taehyung, I made sure that he was feeling well enough to hang out. “I won’t be upset if you want to go home. It was a rough night for all of us.”

He sniffled and nodded. “I’m just really tired.”

Jimin and I said our goodbyes and I promised the blue haired boy I would call him in the morning to set up another meet up. He called it a group date, something neither Jimin nor I disagreed with, but it did make me feel queasy. Depending on how our conversation goes, we may never spend time together outside of training. I felt like I was going to vomit.

“Let me drive?” Jimin murmured as we parted ways with the couple. 

I nodded, digging in my purse to find them. “Mind reader, I swear. Get out of my head, kid.”

He snickered, “Who says you weren’t in mine, granny”

The queasiness dissipated and I felt like I could breathe a little bit easier now. Being alone with Jimin had never felt this nerve wracking before, not even the first time we met, and it was hard to explain all of the thoughts and feelings going through my head. We were finally having the talk, but I had never imagined it going this way. Handing him the keys, I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Whoops,” I mocked. “You know me and my bad eyesight, kiddo.”

“Watch it,” He hissed, rubbing the spot. “Don’t want you breaking anything. You know you have frail bones.”

I laughed, “Don’t make me give you a knuckle sandwich, punk.”

Sliding into the passenger seat felt less daunting after the light hearted exchange. Still, my blood was pumping as Jimin clicked his seatbelt in place. I had no idea when the conversation would shift into murkier waters, but I needed to start thinking about what to say to him. 

Denying my feelings would only make things worse, and I did not think the younger man would believe me. In fact, he would be offended that I thought he was dumb enough to get bamboozled in the first place. Lying did not seem like the right call anyway. My feelings were not something to feel ashamed about, but they were very frightening. 

“When is later?”

I gasped, startled out of my thoughts. We had been driving for over ten minutes already. Time seemed to slip by when I was lost in my own head. Jimin apologized for scaring me but repeated the question once I reassured him that I was fine.

“Now,” I mumbled. “I guess later is now.”

Turning on the blinker, Jimin switched lanes smoothly. He was probably the best driver that I knew and always made sure to keep my little quirks in mind during our rides. He had even gotten used to leaving the radio off when I was around, something that I appreciated more than words could ever say. Recognizing that I was stalling, I cleared my throat and tried my best to get my jumbled thoughts across.

“As much as I would like to go on that date,” I started, voice weak, “I’m just a bit concerned with how that might affect our ability to work together.”

There we go, I thought to myself mentally patting myself on the back. That was not as hard as I thought it would be. Leaving out a few details would not hurt anybody, and it was the main cause of concern for me. My age was definitely up there, but I doubted Jimin would understand my perspective. To him I was just older, but to the rest of the world I was this cougar on the prowl for young men to help me relive my glory days. Even my own friends thought it was funny to make fun of the age gap.

“Is it only because of that?” Jimin pressed, his voice telling me that he was still reacting positively to whatever was coming out of my mouth. I was refusing to look at him, fearful that he would see through me. “Or is there something else bothering you?”

“W-w-well-” I stammered, “There is the media frenzy to think about. Sejin is already dealing with the press and your ‘out of character’ seclusion this season. Then there’s the age gap. I just-” I struggled to find the right words. Having let my insecurity slip out, I lost my flow and scrambled to get back on track. “Look, I haven’t done this whole dating thing in a really long time, and I don’t want that to get in the way of being a good coach. Ozzie put me in charge of you, and my reputation is on the line.”

I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Mouth dry and palms sweaty, I forced myself to look out of the window as I spoke. Anxiety had been something I dealt with for as long as I could remember, and it only got worse the older I got. My hands and fingers trembled in my lap as I tried to steady my breathing. 

In all of the dreams I had about Jimin, and there had been quite a few at this point, this moment had never felt so real and raw. We were always in these picture perfect pieces of heaven, sunshine beaming down on us, and the words I desperately wanted to say fell from my lips with ease. It was simple and sweet, and yet profound and beautiful. I could wax poetics and put myself thoughts together so eloquently he had no choice but to say yes to me. 

Reality was different. Here I was stumbling over my sentences and stuttering my way through words. Instead of taking his hand with mine, I was fidgeting with shaking fingers and desperately hoping he could not see just how uncomfortable I was. I knew he did. He always noticed. My heart was racing so fast I was afraid it would burst. Had he turned the heart up? It was boiling.

“I just want to know how you feel about me.”

“Hm?” I squeaked, unable to form any real words. My mouth was too dry. 

“I’ve thought about all of the same shit,” Jimin continued, voice as smooth and calming as ever. “I don’t care about any of that. All I want to know is how you feel about me.”

“You know,” I replied, wheezing. Talking felt impossible. “You know.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Taking in a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and began the mental countdown. My therapist taught me the technique years ago and I always found it to be helpful. I did this a few times until I felt calm enough to open my eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded, finally feeling my heart rate slowing. “A little anxious.”

“Don’t be,” He placed a hand on my knee. “It’s just me.”

And he was right. It was just Jimin and I in my car, but that was also the reason I felt so suffocated. There was nowhere to run or hide in here, and if things went south I was stuck with him for half an hour. Trying not to let those pessimistic thoughts send me back into a panic, I began to mentally point out things in my car.

Air freshener. It's green. It smells like pine and lemons. I want a new scent. Jimin likes to buy this coconut and mango one that smells like candy. I will buy one like his. I love the smell.

I let out a heavy breath. Everything was fine. He was not upset. He just wanted to know how I felt about him. Nothing more nothing less. My heart was settling, and my fingers were no longer shaking.

“I like you,” I choked out, placing my hand over his. “But you already knew that.”

He gently laughed, flipping his hand up to intertwine our fingers. 

“Yeah, you’re a terrible actress.”

I groaned, leaning my head against the window. As much as I tried kidding myself, there was absolutely no way he did not see the way I looked at him. I always knew when his flirting took on a more serious edge, like when he called me beautiful after seeing the scar on my leg for the first time, so it should not have been surprising that he picked up on a thing or two. Still, it did not make it any less embarrassing.

“How long have you known?” I asked, peeking at him through my lashes.

“I mean, I had a feeling when you first got to town, but I wasn’t completely sure until that first training day.”

He laughed at my embarrassed groan, holding my hand tighter. I knew I wasn't subtle enough. Poker face champion, my ass.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He cooed. “You’ve been my dream girl since I was, like, 15.”

“That's not helping the age gap thing,” I tittered as I played with his fingers. Then, because I could not help myself. “Dream girl, huh?”

Picking up on the teasing tone in my voice, Jimin chortled. 

“Okay, big head. Calm down.”

“Big head?” I guffawed, pulling my hand out of his grasp. “Who are you calling big head, shortstop?”

“You, big head,” Taking back my hand, Jimin pinned it down and kept a tight grip. “No take backs.”

I always loved it when Jimin was in a good mood. He was so playful and full of energy, and all signs of those dark days were in the deepest parts of his mind. It was impossible to keep myself from playing along which only served to egg him on.

“You never said yes or no.”

“Yes or no to what?” I questioned. 

Jimin started rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

“To that date.”

Saying yes felt wrong, but saying no felt impossible. No matter what I said someone would be upset, and I had to decide who that would be: Jimin or America? I turned my own hand around this time and put my fingers through his. They fit together awkwardly, his hands just a bit too large, but I still found it perfect all the same.

“Do you have any ideas?”

His shiteating grin was contagious and a burst of butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Hands clasped, Jimin started to list off all of the places we could go, but I was not fully listening. I had a date with this guy. I was going on a date with my trainee. 

“What do you think?”

I blinked rapidly, hoping he could not tell that I had zoned out. 

“You pick,” I breathed. “Surprise me.”

The rest of the drive back home was spent making small talk and discussing food preferences. Jimin was a dinner and a movie kind of guy, while I would rather do some sort of activity. What type of conversation could we have in a theater? Jimin seemed excited to plan out a fun night and I was just happy he was this into me. The feeling was most definitely mutual.

“Do you mind if I go to my house tonight? Mom needs some space and I know my dad is tired of having me breathing down their necks.”

I had yet to go over to his house. The days that we drove together were when he spent the evening with his parents. When Na-yeon and I talked about it, she was more upfront about her health situation than the men of the house. James spent most of his time taking care of his wife and their son enjoyed giving him a break every now and then. James would go on a fishing trip with his friends while Jimin stayed back to keep an eye on his mother. 

“Is it closer to town?” I asked, nibbling on my lower lip. 

I had yet to drive through downtown Ann Arbor. The Park house, and by proxy the Anderson’s, was a thirty minute drive from the bustling city. Nestled in the smaller town of Saline going towards Manchester, I had rarely had to leave the small town. This trip to Detroit was the farthest I had gone since arriving in Michigan, but I had a feeling the traffic in downtown Ann Arbor would be a bit much for me to drive through alone.

“Yeah,” I felt even more nervous by his nonchalant tone. “I used to live downtown, but I got tired of the noise. I bought my house in Eberwhite last summer, so there’s a little less foot traffic.”

“How’s the drive back to Saline?” Even I could hear the hesitation in my voice.

“Less than twenty,” Rubbing the back of my hand, his voice took on a sweeter tone. “We don’t have to. My truck’s at my parent’s place anyway.”

“Maybe some other time?” I forced myself to laugh, hoping to make the awkward tension leave. “Preferably when it’s not dark outside.”

I relaxed into my seat once I started seeing familiar landmarks. Saline was a very small town with a little over 2,000 residents, but downtown still had a way of attracting a relatively large crowd. Stoney Creek Brewery was packed and Jimin pointed out Sam’s car as we pass by. 

“Looks like he came out with Otis and Skye,” He murmured.

Otis was another personal trainer at the gym, and Skye was responsible for marketing. They had been going out for a while now and made plan to move to Ann Arbor once Otis graduated from school. He was getting his masters in movement science at the University of Michigan. They had planned on moving out there when he graduated last year, but neither of them could find a job that could pay their bills. Otis was hoping the master’s would give him a competitive edge while Skye saved up enough money to start her own advertising firm.

“Think Gigi is with them?” I wondered.

“Probably not. She’s busy studying for an exam. I saw that she requested time off tomorrow and the day after, so I don’t think she has the time to go out for drinks.”

Giselle was getting her bachelor’s in dental hygiene at UM, and everytime I spoke to her she was swamped with work. I had no idea she needed to request time off, though. Must be an intense program.

“Did you ever go to college?” I asked Jimin. 

He nodded, “I got my bachelor’s in psychology.”

Well, I had not been expecting that. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I never went back to get my master’s,” We turned onto the long road that led to his parent’s house. “I might after the Olympics.”

It was interesting to hear about his goals post-swimming. I never had those. My entire life was going to be swimming, and then, once I could no longer compete, I was opening my own swim school. After a couple of years of coaching under my belt, the plan was to start training professional athletes until I could join the Olympic coaching team. The accident was a very traumatic and eye-opening experience for me, so most of those plans ended up getting changed and modified over the years.

“What about you?” Jimin asked, pulling up to the curb.

“I went through an accelerated program at UCCS. Just graduated with my Masters in Athletic Training back in April.”

Neither one of us seemed to be ready to break the bubble we created. Even if we were just talking about school, it felt too intimate to leave. Holding hands in my car was new and I was worried if I opened the car door all of this would turn out to be a dream. The date, the confession; all of it. 

“I should get going,” Jimin sighed, still not moving his hand from mine. “It’s late and I have to drive home.”

I was the first one to move away. He was right. It was almost midnight and I had a really difficult time tonight. All of that yelling really took a toll on me. Jimin did not move until he heard the click of my seatbelt unfastening. 

“See you tomorrow?” He asked when I rounded the car. Getting out of the car, he held the door open as I slid inside. “I know we were out later than we thought we’d be.”

I nodded, “We can have a late morning. 8:30 instead of 6.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

He closed my car door and jogged to his truck. It was parked in the driveway today. I pressed the button to roll my window down. 

“Drive safe!” I called out.

Looking over his shoulder, Jimin grinned and threw a hand up. I watched him climb into Fiona and tried to keep myself from worrying too much. It was so dark outside and he could be exhausted behind the wheel. Who knows what could happen to him.

He caught me staring and waved at me again. I returned it with a small smile. The truck stopped for a second and his phone was his hand. My cell phone vibrated in the cupholder.

Jimin: I’ll be okay

Jimin: Text you when I get home, k?

Looking back at the truck, I found him already looking at me. I nodded my response. He smiled at me again, waved, before finally backing out of the driveway. I did not move until I could no longer see his truck in my rearview. My phone buzzed one more time.

Jimin: At the stop sign on Woodland and Ann Arbor-Saline

Jimin: Go home. I’m here. I’m fine.

I hesitated texting him back when I knew he was driving, but decided that I would just have to trust he would not open it until it was safe.

Me: Get out of my head, kid

Finally putting my car in drive, I threw my phone back in its spot and made the ten minute drive down the road to the Anderson house. All of the lights were off when I pulled up and I was as quiet as a mouse walking to the backyard. 

I was beyond tired but still needed to get my nighttime routine done. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned on the shower and took off my makeup. Tonight wasn’t a wash night, so I was not in the shower for long. I heard my phone vibrating as I put on lotion and I quickly threw on a night shirt and went to my bedroom.

Jimin: Who says you aren’t in mine, meemaw

Jimin: I’m home now so you can get some sleep

Jimin: Night, geezer

I snorted. That was a new one. Crawling into bed, I got comfortable under my blankets and thought about a good comeback.

Me: Thank you

Me: Geezer? That’s such an geriatric thing to say, you whippersnapper

Jimin: LOL night 🫰🏼

Me: Night 🌜

I quick sent Taehyung a text to make sure he and Milo go home safely before putting my phone on the charger. Jungkook sent a text to our group chat an hour ago to let us know he was in his apartment back in Detroit. He was in Ann Arbor so often since Darcy lived out here, but he had bought a multi-million dollar home in Corktown when was first signed to the Red Wings in 2019. Milo was the one to reply to my text, signing his name at the bottom, since Taehyung passed out in the car on their way back home.

I took my medications and started up a game of solitaire while I waited for them to kick in. My psychologist had sent me to Michigan with a three month supply. I was planning my first trip back next week so I could see the boys in time for their first big competition of the season. While I was in town, I would pick up another three month supply. We were making the arrangements work as best as we could, and I was lucky I had a large group of people willing to support me during this transition.

Finally I felt the sleeping pills kicking in and I went to my white noise app. I hated falling asleep in silence and Emery had suggested the app while we were in a session. I paid for a yearly subscription and never regretted the fifty bucks. It had been a huge help in lulling me to bed.

Lights out and blankets wrapped snugly around my body, I closed my eyes and thought about everything that had happened. Jimin liked me back, asked me on a date, and told all of his friends about his infatuation with me before I even realized something else was going on. I was his dream girl. That put a lazy smile on my face. Then, I could no longer think about anything and was plunged into a dreamless sleep.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae @adventures-in-bookland

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[gucciwins]

something new

wembley brings love and celebration 

Word count: 5190

A/N: posting something for the first time in months (since april) and I am very excited for you to read.  please let me know what you think. I enjoyed writing and promise I'm already working on the next thing 💜 asks

_____

Wembley Stadium.

It’s a place you had heard many stories about and even attended a show in 2019 as a gift for your father to watch his favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. This entire week has been remarkable, but tonight is the final night. You are here supporting your boyfriend, Harry, and because it’s the last night, there will be a celebration after with the attendance of everyone who knows Harry from family, friends, and workers.

When you first met Harry, you didn’t know he was Harry Styles. Many people would ask how you could not recognize the Harry Styles, but when you met him, he had a full beard and hair full of messy curls. He was dressed in mini running shorts wearing a black jumper and bright running shoes. The reason you spoke to him was his shoes. This brand is known for its style of color combination and lightness in weight, making it the running shoe. You had been debating buying a pair, and his looked well-loved. It wouldn’t hurt to hear an opinion from someone who wasn’t an online user.

“Excuse me,” you called out softly behind him.

He jumps and moves away from the counter. “Sorry, was I in your way?”

You do your best not to melt hearing his deep voice; it was comforting for some odd reason. You smile and shake your head. “No, uh, actually. I’m sorry to bother you. This is actually such a silly question now.” You pause, debating walking away while you can, but he encourages you to continue. “It’s about your shoes. Are the Hoka’s worth it? The online reviews have not been able to convince me, and I’ve read too many articles at this point. Yours look like they’ve seen a few miles,” you point out.

Harry looks down at his shoes and laughs, “so they do.” He meets your eye, stepping closer and away from the counter. “I’m on my fourth pair,” he confesses sheepishly.

You wince, knowing the price for these shoes is not cheap. “Are you constantly running? Are they easily worn out?”

His face reddens, and he fiddles with his necklace. “No, uh…I like having more options to match my outfits.”

You laugh, “that makes sense.” You pause. “Does that mean picking my first pair will be harder? I saved for one pair, and my pocket will hurt if I decide to bite the bullet.”

“I debated a few choices at my computer and ultimately bought two pairs. They were orange and yellow. Bondi are a good first choice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You notice the barista, Lily sliding a coffee on the counter and gesturing it’s his, meaning it’s time for you to go. “Sorry for bothering you, but this was very helpful. Sorry, I never got your name. I’m Y/N.”

“Harry. It was no bother.”

You doubt that.

“Bye, Harry.” You collect your bag and walk out, knowing you were going to overthink buying these shoes, and Harry would never leave your mind.

To no surprise, you’re back at your favorite coffee shop the following day, but this time dressed in your favorite jeans and a cardigan your grandma helped you knit over the summer last year. It’s pastel pink with flowers placed randomly all over. You didn’t dress cute for a guy. You dressed cute for yourself. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Lily is a good friend, and after walking your iced latte to your table, she sat down for a moment.

“Nice conversation yesterday?” She ponders.

“Mhm…nice fellow.”

“Was surprised you bothered him?”

You look at her, confused. “Was it rude of me?”

“Some would say so.”

“I’m confused. We talked about shoes. What did I do wrong?”

Lily stares at you, trying to see if you’re joking. “Y/N, be serious.”

“I am.”

She looks around, leaning closer. “You spoke to Harry Styles. Popstar sensation. Most loved man on the earth.” Lily sees you processing her words, and before you can make rebuttals, she pulls her phone out and shows you a photo of Harry, the guy you met, under a Harry Styles update page.

“Well, shit!”

“Yeah, he at least looks interested in your conversation.”

You roll your eyes, “geeze, Lily, thanks for making it seem like it’s awful to talk with me.”

“Not what I meant,” she apologizes.

“It’s fine. The beard threw me off.”

“He’s a regular here. Comes every other day.” Lily excuses herself needing to get back to work, and with that reassurance, he wouldn’t be coming in; you enjoy your coffee.

You took out your laptop and began to work while keeping an eye on the door. Pretty soon, you got deep into your research and didn’t even notice when the door chimed, signaling someone knew had entered.

“You look really focused. Are you working?” Harry had walked up to your table, startling you.

The truth was you were not working, although you should have been; it was a Wednesday morning. You feel your cheeks warm up, knowing you’ve been caught. “Won’t lie to you, Harry. I’m looking at shoes.” You turn your screen to let him see you have a page pulled up for running shoes with multiple open tabs.

Harry laughs in surprise and gestures to the empty seat to join you. You move your bag, and he happily slides in. You move your laptop closer to him, giving him a better view.

“Those are cute.” You had been looking at a lilac pair.

“Right! But look at these.”

Harry frowns when you switch the screen to display a cherry-pink design. “Now, that’s a tough choice.”

“Ugh…I know. I’ve been alternating back and forth.”

“Okay, close your eyes,” he orders.

You look at him skeptically but do as he says.

“It’s a sunny day which is just a miracle here in London,” you laugh, and he continues. “You’re out on a walk deciding where to go for the day when a stranger points out your shoe is untied. You bend down to tie it. Now what color are your shoes?”

“Purple,” you answer without thinking.

“Well, there you go.”

“That was helpful, Harry. Thank you. Are you a therapist or something?”

“In another life, I would be.”

“Well, what do you do now?” You ask, genuinely interested.

Harry looks at you, confused as if you’re really asking the question. “I sing for a living. Uh…” he feels embarrassed sharing this for some reason. “I go on stage and perform.”

You frown, looking at him closer. “From my eye level, you look like a rugged Harry Styles.”

Harry looks amused. “Rugged. Huh, I thought the beard was good.”

“It is,” you quickly agree. “Sorry, I’m used to seeing videos of him—well, you clean-shaven.”

“I’m on a break. It’s a nice way to let go.”

Right.

You were at a crossroads now because you liked Harry. He was friendly and easy to speak with, but would this new information change everything for you?

“Maybe we can go on a run when your shoes arrive?” Harry suggested.

Your eyes lit up, “really?”

“Mhmm…I like running around the park.”

“Oh, I love finding new trails,” you gushed. “I bet you have found the best-hidden roads.”

Harry shrugs, “we’ll have to see.”

“Uh… I’m sorry for not recognizing you. I don’t know if that was weird or not.” You decide to apologize.

“You’re fine, Y/N. When you came up to me, I thought you wanted a photo, but clearly, my shoes were more interesting,” he teased. “It was nice being just Harry.”

You smile sheepishly at him, “you’re still Harry to me. Feel like you’ll turn into Harry Styles when you’re clean-shaven on stage.”

“Not for a few weeks, then. I have shows in Los Angeles at the end of January,” he tells you because he wants to bask in being just Harry for a few weeks more.

“Oh, fun,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Mhmm…” Harry waits for you to ask more, but instead, you turn the conversation to his workout routine.

From then on, conversation flows easily. You tell Harry you’re the oldest of three. Two younger brothers who live to embarrass you whenever they get the chance but love when you drive them around. You tell him about your job in publishing and that you worked your way up to being an editor. It’s a job you love dearly. Harry lets you ramble on, asking questions and wanting to learn more. He learns you’re allergic to mushrooms. Your first tattoo was a cherry you got at eighteen on an impulsive night out. That you’re the only family member in generations to be born left-handed.

Harry shares that he loves to travel because it gives him a place to miss and come home. He loves his sister and calls her his best friend. That he’s too competitive and loves a long game of Scrabble. He dreams of having a pet dog but does not want to commit when his life is on the road. You mention your family dog, Woodstock, named after the iconic yellow bird from the Peanuts comics. A yellow Labrador who runs up to strangers, always asking for belly rubs. You promise to take him to visit.

Your friendship with Harry grew from there. You would meet most mornings outside the coffee shop for a run and then for a coffee that turned into hours of conversation. You liked Harry and reckoned you liked him more than a friend, but there was no way you would change that dynamic and instead settle to be his friend. When Harry showed up one day clean-shaven, you were taken aback because it made him look younger, and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“Don’t recognize me anymore,” he teases.

“I could spot those green eyes in a sea of people,” you promise him.

Come April, a shift in your dynamic happened. Harry wanted you to work out with him and his trainer. You thought he was crazy, but really Harry was dying for you to meet his friends. They couldn’t stop teasing him that you were made up.

“Harry!”

You both turned and found a man in a white shirt and shorts, similar to Harry, approaching you. Harry welcomed him in a hug before going to stand next to you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Brad.”

Brad shot you a smile, “pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“It’s nice to put a face to a name. He can’t shut up about you,” Brad confesses.

“Oi! Stop that.” Harry frowns, but you can tell he doesn’t mind.

You end up having the worst workout of your life. Brad, not taking a moment of pity for you until he finally called it quits an hour later. You threw yourself on the grass, closed your eyes, and took slow breaths. You heard Harry laughing above you but did not acknowledge him.

“Come on, petal. I’ll buy you a coffee,” Harry offered.

You peeked one eye open, “and a scone?”

“I’ll get you all the goods you want,” Brad chimes in. “You were a trooper out there.”

“Fuck, I never want to work out with you again,” you huff.

“Don’t think we will if he has a say,” Brad points to Harry. “Never seen him so angry.”

“She’s my friend. Didn’t want to explain her death to her parents.”

After that, it seemed you only saw more of each other until one night at your home, Harry made a move you didn’t see coming. After the film finished, Harry turned serious.

“Y/N?”

“Harry, what is it?” You ask, concerned.

“I like you.”

You sigh in relief, “gosh, you scared me. I like you too, silly. You’re my best friend.”

Harry shakes his head. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Heard you loud and clear.”

He sighs, frustrated. “These last few months as your friend have been amazing. I feel so lucky you approached me to talk about shoes. While I enjoy being your friend every time we get together, these feelings I have continue to grow, and I can no longer keep them to myself. I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

You sit there shocked because you never expected Harry to reciprocate your feelings, but he is pouring his heart out for you. “Harry,” you breathed out. “I-I-I like you too. I have for some time, but I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Me either, but Brad said a person as amazing as you would not wait around for me.”

You laugh, “tell him I’m a fool because I think I would have waited a lifetime for you.”

“I know it’s too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend seeing as we haven’t been on a date, but—”

You interrupt him. “Why can’t we say this is our first date? If we think about it, every time we have spent together could be considered a date.”

“Do you end a first date with a kiss?” He asks sheepishly.

“Only if it’s you,” you promise him.

When your wine-stained lips meet his, you feel a wave of peace surround you knowing that it might be soon, but the universe sent Harry to you. He was your other half. He made you better. You pulled him closer, loving the closeness this kiss brought you. Harry sighed, ending the kiss. You went in for a second kiss needing more of him for a little longer.

“Petal, baby. I’m here,” he spoke against your lips.

You giggled out of breath. “Sorry, I think I like you a little too much.”

Harry leaned his forehead against you. “I feel the same.”

“Good, let’s kiss some more and then have a sleepover.”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, petal?” Harry asked.

You frowned, “you slept here two nights ago.”

Harry sighed, “you’re right.”

It wasn’t until a week later you made it official. Life was perfect, and you were happy. Harry knew starting a relationship as he began touring wasn’t the smartest option, but he was close to home and promised to check in at every chance. In each city he visited, he picked up a souvenir for you as a reminder he was thinking of you. It was cheesy, but he wrote you postcards from each city because even though they wouldn’t arrive quickly, they would remind you of him when you did receive them. It only made you like him more and knew you were falling in love quickly. There was no stopping it.

While you joined him at his special show at Slane Castle, you didn’t have the chance to meet many of his family, mainly only the band. They welcomed you with open arms, and how Harry never stops talking about you. It made you nervous. You hoped to live up to his words because these people and his band members meant the world to Harry.

____

Now being here to celebrate four sold-out nights at Wembley, it felt overwhelming knowing Harry’s entire family and friends from his childhood would be here. You’ve known Harry for months but loved him like he’s always been yours. It was a joyous day, but even that wouldn’t take away your nerves for the final night of seeing Harry shine on stage.

“No one is going to believe I didn’t recognize you when we first met,”  you tell him as the driver drove down a road that arrives at the back of Wembley, away from the crowd.

“Course they will.”

You give him a deadpan look, “you’re basically the face of the UK. A prince, some would say.” You sit up and clear your throat. “Oh, how’d we meet. Well, I met him at a coffee shop and asked him about his shoes.” You rolled your eyes, “sounds fake to me.”

“Good thing it’s the truth. Plus, I thought you were cute. Would have never worked up the courage to walk up to you, though.”

“Stop. You’re only saying that.”

“Nope, I mean it. Brad and the band like you.”

“I hope they do,” you muttered. “Only people I’ve met now. I’m meeting everyone.”

“You met Mum and Gem,” Harry reminds you. “Spent time with them for three nights.”

You sigh because, for a moment, you feel Harry doesn’t understand how overwhelming this is. Everyone here knows Harry. They know Harry from Holmes Chapel, and they know the amazing person he is. You feel happy to know and love him, but they’ve got a lifetime of Harry, and you’ve got months. It differs for everyone because you would move mountains to ensure he was happy. Except, everyone doesn’t know that. They don’t know you.

“Y/N, petal will you look at me,” he begs softly.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to meet his emerald eyes. Harry takes in the worry shining bright, and smiles. “Petal, I love you. I know you love me. You remind me every moment we’re together and when I’m away. I don’t doubt it. My family knows you, maybe not your physical form, but they have heard stories and seen endless pictures. They will love you because I love you. If you get overwhelmed, you can always sit back and watch, they’ll understand. Most importantly, I will understand. I wish I could hold you as Mum introduces you to everyone. I told her to hold off, but she’s excited. Brad will be on the floor, and I know you enjoy that. You’re in safe hands.”

“I love you. Thank you. I know it’s your day, and I’m making it all about me.”

Harry shushes you, “hey, hey. We’re a team. Your feelings are just as important as mine. Now give me a kiss.”

You loved him, simple as that. He was the missing piece in your life.

___

The show was like no other. Harry, from the moment he got on stage, radiated happiness. The fans were the loudest they had been all week, filling you with so much joy. Anne told you to join her at the family box, but you decided to be on the floor as close to Harry as possible by the Jonny pod; you noticed Harry favored the side more, knowing his dear friend was in the audience tonight. From surprise songs to dancing and Mitch receiving his Grammy, you knew it would be a night you would never forget. As Harry began his encore with “Sign of the Times,” the rain started falling, and so did your tears. The fact that over 90 thousand people were here for Harry said enough. They chose to spend their evening with him, and he delivered to make it memorable.

You didn’t even notice that Brad captured a photo of you staring at Harry on stage with a giant smile and hands over your heart you would only see later when Harry made it his lock screen. Harry thanks the crowd for a magical night stating over and over again that he’s never been happier.

Brad wraps an arm around you and walks you towards Harry, who’s sharing long hugs and meaningful words with his bandmates. This is the man you love, and there’s nothing you’d change about it. You followed Harry to the dressing room, wanting a moment alone before the madness. Harry bounces around quickly to change, removing the overalls and shimming them down his waist. He slips on shorts, throws on a random shirt, and puts on his new Adidas Love on Tour sweater with his initials.

You lean against the door admiring him in all his glory. He didn’t bother for a shower, too eager to see everyone.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper. “I know it might not mean much, but I am.”

Harry pauses, finishes tying his shoe, and walks over to you. He stops before you, his hands finding a home on your cheeks. “It means the world. Don’t ever think it doesn’t. We might only have been together for two months, but my heart has loved you my entire life. You being here is enough. I could feel your love from the stage.”

He connects your lips together, and you melt against him. Harry breathes life into you, and you never want him to stop. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Harry. So much.”

“Good. Let’s go mingle.” You move away from the door and make your way outside when he tugs you back in. “Forgot one last thing.”

He hurries over to his bag, pulls out an identical sweater, and hands it to you. You accept it moving and look it over. Your eyes quickly find your initials on the right side, similar to his.

“Harry—this isn’t necessary.”

Harry shrugs, “it was your idea.”

You don’t fight him as he slips off your red leather jacket and helps you slip on the thin material. He fixes the collar making sure none of your hair is tucked under. Harry decides you look good, giving you a pat on the butt. “Now we can go.”

Harry held your hand as you walked over to the area Jeff had set up for the celebration. He mentioned there would be another location later in the night, but it would be good to let the crowds outside die out. On your walk over, Harry told you about outfits and signs he saw in the crowd. How overwhelmed he came when the rain came down. He felt at home.

You expressed how much fun you had, told Harry how Jeff and Tommy taught you the boot scoot during “Treat People,” and assured him many videos of your failed attempt were taken. Harry paused outside the door where you could hear the loud chatter, and you knew what was waiting for you behind those doors. Harry shoots you a look, and you give him a reassuring smile letting him know it’s okay to go in.

The cheers are loud when the man of the hour walks in. Everyone was quick to gather around him. You try to sneak away, but his grip on your hand stays tight. Every person who thanks him, he makes sure to introduce you.

“Love, go celebrate. It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you tell him in a low voice.

Harry shakes his head, instead kissing you and pulling you along to meet and chat with new people. You felt a bit overwhelmed, but everyone has been so sweet. They asked where you were from? Scotland. What was your job? An editor. How did you meet? Coffee Shop. How proud were you? Immensely.

You kept trying to hang back, but Harry seemed to notice when you drifted away. He would kiss you and ask for your input in the conversation. You told him you were getting a drink and would be back momentarily, except you got a vodka cranberry and hid in a corner. Harry found you when your drink was half gone.

“Babyyy,” he called out. “Missed you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he wrapped himself around you. He moved you away from the wall, making you face the crowd, his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You lean against him, happy to be wrapped in his arms, feeling safe. “I love you, bub.”

Harry takes a sip of your drink and hums at the bitterness of the cranberry. He knows you’re a social drinker because it allows you to relax and not be as anxious. You and Harry get lost in your world as you let him talk your ear off. He tells you about people around the room, who they are, and how they’ve helped them. Surprisingly, Harry can name everyone in the room, though it shouldn’t shock you much. It’s just the type of person he is.

Your boyfriend is an affectionate person. He loves having a hand on the small of your back or your hand in his. He wants to be close because he says he wants makeup when he’s away. Some would say it makes him look clingy, but lucky for you, you love his touch; it’s comforting. You could feel his smile against your skin as he planted kisses on your face.

Even while in your corner, people come up to you. When they see Harry begin to kiss your shoulder or whisper in your ear, they excuse themselves. You can’t help but feel you are keeping Harry from celebrating with everyone, not realizing he’s happy to celebrate with you in his arms.

“Harry! Sue!” Is yelled from across the room. You see a short, dirty-haired blonde yell and wave for him, but Harry is too busy peppering kisses all over your neck to realize.

“Bubby, love. They’re calling for you.”

He hums against your neck. “I’m perfect here.”

You sigh because the yelling continues, and you’re starting to feel overwhelmed because he’s not celebrating. Instead, Harry is ensuring you’re not nervous, which seems like the most boring job in the world. He should be taking shots with friends and telling stories about the last four nights.

“Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” you promise him.

Harry tightens his hold on you, “baby, you sure?”

“Yes, no go. I’ll even bring you a drink.”

“Te–”

“Tequila neat,” you tease. “I know you.”

Harry pecks your lips once, twice, and a third time before making his way across the room, but not before looking over his shoulder one last time at you. You shoot him a wink and exaggerate, looking at his bum and making him laugh. He moves his hips a little extra just for you. As Harry easily falls into the conversation, you use this moment as an opportunity for a breather.

You were alone for around five minutes when you heard footsteps coming your way. You were in a corridor that led you out to the stage if you continued walking down but stopped halfway, knowing no one would come this way. You were wrong.

Harry is who you expected to see, but to your surprise, it’s Gemma, his older sister.

“Hi,” you greet softly. The conversations with Gemma have been short, but from what you can tell, she’s wise beyond her years and always ready to listen.

“You okay?” She asks, straight to the point.

“A bit loud,” you gesture towards the hallway where the music can still be heard.

She nods, “I get that.” Gemma looks around before moving to stand next to you shoulder to shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asks again.

You sigh, “I—i-i.”

“A bit much for a family gathering.”

“A bit,” you exhale, knowing Gemma understands what you might be feeling.

“It’s the perfect opportunity, I feel. I did forget how overwhelming it was. I don’t even remember my boyfriend’s first family gathering.”

“Are you saying I won’t remember this in a few years?”

“Oh, you’re never forgetting tonight.” She smirks, “unless you keep drinking.”

You scrunch your nose at the thought. “Better not.”

The two of you stand in silence, and you know it’s because Gemma is giving you a minute to gather your thoughts.

“I just—I love Harry. I do. I hope you don’t doubt that, but I don’t know how to celebrate when you’ve all been here for him every step of the way. Year after year.”

Gemma deflates, “oh, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Gemma cuts you off.

“It’s okay,” she assures you. “It’s difficult because of his job, not because of who he is. But trust me when I say he loves you.” Gemma’s words are firm, and you believe her. As an older sister, you would do anything to protect your siblings but never lie to someone important.

“Harry talks about you every chance he gets. Did you know Y/N ran a marathon? She’s swam with sharks in a reservation center. Y/N’s CPR certified. She edited and helped publish five number-one books this year,” Gemma rambles off. “We all know so much because he’s proud and wants to share it with those close to him.”

“I-I didn’t know.” You let all of this process, but it’s a shock because some of the things Gemma listed mean nothing, but clearly, to him, mean everything.

“Everyone in that room,” Gemma points over her shoulder, “knows who you are and what you mean to him.”

“Everyone?” You whisper. It doesn’t feel real. You’d never been so loved, and it might be why you’re feeling overwhelmed because he wants to bask in your love. It’s not a show; it’s simply his way of showing he loves you in front of everyone he cares about.

“Celebrate how you want but know all we want is to see him happy. It’s clear as day that you make him happy. This is the happiest I’ve seen him, and it’s because of you. Maybe even happier than selling out Wembley.”

“Thank you, Gemma.” She hugs you tight, and it’s so familiar yet different from Harry’s. His is light and full of love, while Gemma’s is tight and warm. “He wrote you a beautiful song.” You’re referring to “Sweet Creature,” which he dedicated to her tonight.

“It’s a special one. Don’t worry. I hear you’ll be getting yours soon enough,” she teases. “I’ll see you inside.”

A few seconds later, someone else joins you. It’s as if your body knows who it is without seeing them because you feel the familiar flutter in your stomach as his smell wraps around you.

“Baby, where did you go?” Harry whines. Baby is a term of endearment that comes out a lot when he’s had more than one to drink. It’s your favorite during these times.

“I’m here,” you open your arms, and he happily falls in your embrace. “I’m proud of you, love.” You run a hand through the back of his head, keeping him close.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Like really proud. You’re so loved. What you do is incredible. I feel so lucky to be able to love you.”

Harry pulls back, and you see his beautiful eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall soon. “I love you.”

You press your lips against his and put all your love into the kiss. You wish you could spend the rest of the night kissing him, but there is more celebrating to do. Harry doesn’t let you pull away, instead deepening the kiss. You melt against him, forgetting your worries and enjoying this moment with him. A moment only for the two of you to remember.

“Let’s keep celebrating, my love,” you whisper against his lips.

“Still nervous?” He checks.

“Only a smidge.”

Harry smiles, “that’s okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

“You won’t let go?”

“Never,” he promises.

As you return to the party holding tight to his hand, he asks an important question. “Can I keep kissing you?”

Your laugh rings loud, echoing through Harry’s heart. You bring your hand up to rest at the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. “As much as you like.”

[mewhenimanangel]

cherry, eren jeager

— synopsis. eren is enamored by you, the way you carry yourself, the way you dance…he wants to know more of you

—chapter 1 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 content!: au-highschool, ballet dancer reader, teen romance

nia’s ౨ৎ notes: i’m writing again! (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)

next ౨ৎ

you packed your pointe shoes into your duffel bag, brushing back the bits of hair that strayed from your slick bun.

you were dangerously close to being late for practice today and you knew mrs jeager didn't play like that. you looked in your mirror to make sure everything was in place. you wore a black leotard under a pair of dance shorts and pink leg warmers.

you rushed out of your house and into your mom's suv. she had a cigarette between her manicured fingers as she retouched her lip gloss in the rear view mirror. "hey baby you ready?" she asked, fastening her seatbelt.

"yeah...where are you going?" you squint your eyes at her, she looked a little more glamorous than usual. "gonna go run some errands, see if i can run into that sexy mr ryan" she smirked as she put the car in drive. "mom gross, please stop drooling over my math teacher" you shook your head. "oh come on, you know he's cute. he's got that whole bee keeping thing going on"

"yeah so do you" you joked. "hey!" she slapped your thigh. "i'm just joking! you look as young and beautiful as ever" you smiled, putting your earbuds in"

if it wasn't for your best friend, lana, you swore your mom was your best friend. after your dad passed away, it was just you, her, and your little sister, enya.

ever since you were six you've been dancing, specifically ballet and contemporary. you always loved dance but when your dad died, it lost its spark. four years ago, you sat in ballet practice when your phone rang and your former teacher scolded you for interrupting practice but told you you could go in the hall to answer.

you remember the feeling of your heart breaking when your mom told you the news and that she was getting you early.

don't be mistaken, the love you have for ballet is always there but a small part of you feels like you're only in it to please your mom.

your mom had you at 17 and sometimes you felt like you ruined her life. you've heard her ballet stories since you were little. she was in her prime and destined for greatness, until you came along.

her parents were more orthodox and made her go through with the pregnancy, she never danced the same again after that.

even though you felt guilty, it only made you want to be better, it made you want it more because you felt like you owed it to her.

you put your earbuds away when you saw the familiar dance school come into view. "bye mommy" you said putting your bag over your shoulder. "bye baby, i'll see you later" she kissed your cheek.

after changing out of your sneakers and into your dance shoes, you joined lana and the other girls to stretch. things have been competitive at the school lately ever since mrs. jeager announced she was putting on a recital.

all your peers were working extra hard to be noticed by your teacher, including you of course but you kept it nonchalant. today, she would be announcing who she chooses as her lead dancers.

"annie's literally going insane in the bathroom right now" lana walked up to you as you sat drinking your water. "she needs to relax, it's not like the show's going on broadway...plus i'm sure she'll literally get the solo. she's always kissing jaeger's ass" you scoffed.

"better keep your voice down, i've heard that mrs jaeger's planning on picking you" she smirked. "i doubt it" you shrugged.

mrs jeager walked into the room and told everyone to line up. "alright girls, as you know we'll be putting on my own show in three months and i need you girls in tiptop shape, no matter what part you get. now i'm choosing, drum roll please..." you all tapped your feet.

"y/n! you're my soloist!" she smiled at you. "what? me?" your eyebrows rose. lana immediately shook you by the shoulders out of excitement while the other girls clapped. though, you could feel annie's gaze burning into you. she was jealous.

"yes you, you've shown the most improvement this year and i'm entrusting you to shine through with this role, congratulations" she smiled at you.

mrs. jeager went on to list everyone else's parts for the dances before practice commenced. you were so excited to go home and tell your mom.

once practice was over you began to pack up your things and change out of your shoes. "y/n, come i'd like to talk to you about the solo" mrs jeager called you over. you said bye to lana and grabbed your bag.

"okay so for the solo i wanted a somber yet sensual and scandalous song so i chose

cherry by lana del rey, im sure you know it all you girls seem to love her." she told you.

she went over the details of the outfit she wanted you to wear, she explained the choreography, told you you would have to come in for extra lessons. she began to explain why she chose you when the door behind you opened.

you turned around to see her son, eren, walk in.

he was in a hoodie and jeans that sweeped the floor, long hair pulled back into a low effort bun, headphones wrapped around his neck.

you've known eren for years now, he was in your math class at school and he would often stop by the dance school to see his mom. you can't recall ever talking to him though.

he kind of ran with his own little crowd, most often with mikasa and admin, you think his name was?

he was pretty chill at school, you knew he was on the basketball team, he was never really in anyone's business. the only time you ever heard things about him was when girls would talk about how hot he was, and you feared they were right.

he didn't say anything to you before asking his mom for their house keys. "i've taught you better manners than that, i know you see me talking to someone" she scolded him.

this was when he decided to acknowledge you. eren stared at you, taking a moment to let his eyes trail down your body, admiring the way your leotard and shorts clung to you.

it's not like he meant to ignore you, you just make him a little nervous. it was one thing to see you at school in the uniform you somehow made look good, but it was another to see you like this - sweat making you glisten, hair messy yet perfect, clothes tight on your body.

eren's had his fair share of things with girls in the past but something about you stressed him out, so he decided it was best to avoid you.

"hey" he finally greeted you to which you smiled and waved. god, even your smile was tantalizing. "y/n here is gonna be my soloist, gosh you should see her dance!" he awkwardly smiled and nod his head.

"can i have them now?" he asked his mother. she digged through her purse and gave him the keys. "you can go now we were having an important conversation" she beckoned him away.

he scoffed and made his way to the door. you turned your head ever so slightly only to be me with him looking back at you too.

a smirk graced his lips, dropping when he saw you looking at him. now it was your turn to hide your smile.

[therapycat21]

Hi, I love your writing! I’d love a Travis one shot where he’s a guest on our podcast or we’re one of the sports interviewer after a game and we engage in a lot of flirty banter which ends up with him sliding in our dm’s!

Call Her Daddy?

Request? Yes/No! Description: Having the most famous podcasts on the internet, You have a guest who loves to flirt. Note: Thank you so much! It means the world. Here is your request! Much Love, TherapyCat21

"Hello, I'm Y/n and welcome to call her daddy, on today's episode we have three three-time Super Bowl champion and tight end for the Kansas City Chiefs, please welcome, Travis Kelce!" I smiled and looked over at the 6'5 bearded man in the lavender fluffy chair with headphones and a mic.

He smirks before bringing the mic to his mouth "Hello, hello thank you for having me" He smiles at the camera and turns back to face me. He never fails to have a smile on his face.

"So congratulations on your current win, I was grateful to be one of the fans in the stadium watching live this year and it was amazing to witness, how have you felt recently after all the chaos with winning a third Super Bowl?" I ask.

"Uhm it definitely has been chaotic since but things are kind of slowing down now, right now I'm kinda just relaxing and taking a good time off, eating a bunch of junk food before the next season" he chuckles.

I laugh "Hey, I would do the same if I did what you do, what's your favorite junk food?" I questioned "Definitely gotta be spicy nacho Doritos or the chunky chips ahoy cookies. " he smirked

"ooh, those sound good! but the real question is, what drink?" I smirk back. "how bout this, I'll give you the brand and we both try to name the same?" he suggests. I nod in agreement "Okay, I'm down." I tell him.

"Okay so the brand is Fanta" he looks at me with a lazy smirk. I squint my eyes at him before they widen. He claps his hands together in excitement "You know damn well which flavor I'm talkin about! On the count of three, we say it at the same time!" He tells me. I nod

I laugh before sighing "Okay ready?" I questioned, He nods

"1!"

"2!"

"3!"

"GRAPE!"

I jump from my seat laughing, as I settle back in my seat, he leans over and we high five "That's my girl, I knew you'd get it, great minds think alike" he says with a lovesick smile.

I smiled back "This has been awesome, thank you so much for coming on today, I definitely needed this!" I say with the most genuine smile I've had in months. He nods, clasping his hands together "No thank you, It feels good to be interviewed like this, We really have to do this again." he suggests.

I nod over at him "Absolutely, thanks to Travis for making room and coming onto Call Her Daddy today," I look at the camera "Please remember to like and subscribe and remember to check back soon to see who the next guest is next week! Bye everyone!" I wave at the camera before the signal is off.

I look at Travis "Seriously thank you so much for making time and coming on today, it means a lot " I tell him as I stand up from my seat. He stands "No thank you needed, It was refreshing, I needed this"

My social media manager comes over to us "Okay, can we get a picture of you two together to upload for this week's episode?" She questions.

We both nod and shuffle closer together and I finally see how tall he is compared to me, He places himself practically touching sides, throws his arm around my shoulder, and lays his head on the top of mine and we both smile as the picture is captured.

"thank you both so much," she says before walking to upload the picture.

We let go and hang out for a little longer before his manager tells us it's time for him to attend another event. We stand up from the seats we sat back on to talk more and hug each other goodbye.

I finally get back home and decide to take a shower and watch some TV with my cat when I get a notification, I open Instagram to see tons of notifications from the picture of me and Travis my manager posted for the new episode.

I look over to see a new message request, I click and see it's Travis, I smile before clicking the notification to see he tried sending me a message.

"I had an amazing time with you today, I was hoping we could do it again but this time at a nice restaurant at 8 this Friday? Let me know soon!"

I sit in shock before I respond

"Absolutely, here's my number so we can discuss this more (xxx-xxx-xxxx) ;)"

Twitter:

@user212121: Did y'all see how he was looking at her??!!!???

@furefchids: Their vibe is amazing, they go so well together!

@fhrhffds: Did not expect this pair but absolutely living for it!

[imightgetbetter]

back in time

i don't even know what came over me, but i basically meshed all these ideas into one and here we are, five thousand words later. i typically love writing long pieces, so we'll see if this becomes the new trend for my writing. as always, be nice and give feedback (reblog and messages and all that). thank you for all the support you've been showing me. it literally makes me so happy. okay bye. have fun reading! content warning: MATURE (if you're a minor, get out of here)

Nearly everything in your quaint apartment is moved out, deconstructed, and sold. Outside, New York City is bustling with movement. Holiday season always is. Mothers dragging their families to the Rockefeller Center Tree and Times Square and the notably known apartment buildings in SoHo. Inside, you are waiting anxiously for the buzzer to sound near your front door, where there is someone on their way to help you gather the rest of your things and move back home. Originally, your mother was meant to fly out and help you, but his willingness and insistence that it would be easier for him to come and help because he knows the area quite well from visiting and you’d already asked him (you didn’t), so he had absolutely no issue flying out for only a day or two to get things moved back home, made it so that she simply couldn’t refuse.

Holidays and special occasions always went like this from as early as you can remember. The Healy’s, The Daniel’s, The MacDonald’s, The Hann’s, and your family, all gathered in someone’s house, sharing stories and alcoholic beverages as the boys wacked and played their instruments and you would sit idly by trying to make yourself seem busy and uninterested. And that worked quite well, you thought, for years. Until one holiday, you found yourself drunkenly kissing Matty Healy on the side of your house, his hands brushing electrically against the skin hidden by a thick sweater. His skin was so warm compared to the harsh winter air around you, and kissing him, albeit drunkenly, made your entire body feel warm.

You and Matty never spoke of it, once you two walked back inside, making up some lie that you needed help throwing out the garbage. No one believed you, but you couldn’t speak of it, ever again. Not once. Mistakes are made when you’re drunk and you were friends and you were friends with his friends and you all grew up together, and it felt like the absolute worst thing you could possibly do. You ignored it, and Matty seemed to not have any cares for the fact that this had happen, continuing to act as he always had towards you. You thought it was a one-off thing, a one-time mistake. Until the next party. Until, when everyone was distracted, Matty was taking your hand and pulling you towards the entry way closet and grabbing your face and kissing you.

And this happened, a lot.

Matty never kissed you sober, which, was somehow insulting and intriguing simultaneously. Could you really be everything Matty wanted when he was drunk, but absolutely nothing more than a friend when sober? Questions like this swirled around your brain every time a gathering happened – which was quite often for you all – and every time, you found yourself drunkenly misplaced in his arms, his lips on yours. Matty never took it farther, never pushed it, as though that was enough for now.

All the one-off kissing was enough, until the day came when you were officially leaving. Your acceptance to New York University did not come as a shock to anyone, especially not your friends. You had always been a writer, from the minute you knew words, you were making up stories. You sat with Matty as he wrote songs, giving him synonyms and telling him if his rhyming scheme was off. You were made for this, and it was your dream coming true.

One last party was necessary, all the friends and family gathered together for one last real party, one where it wouldn’t only be because you were visiting in town for the holidays or the summer. All your friends were gathered on the floor of your bedroom, sitting knee to knee as you all share a joint around the circle and talk about what’s going to happen when you leave.

‘You’ve got to come back for holidays,’ George said, tilting his head back and letting the smoke puff out between his lips. ‘Have to check in and listen to what we’re working on, too.’

‘I’m not dropping off the face of the earth,’ you argue, stealing the joint and pulling it between your lips. ‘I’ll still be around. There’s the internet and stuff in America. I’m not going to the Arctic. You act like I’m never coming home.’

‘Might as well be,’ Matty huffs, the cigarette smoke pooling around his head like a cloud. He’s been the one having the hardest time with you leaving, and everyone could see it. He relayed his happiness for your acceptance, as everyone did, but there was something different attached to it, a different feeling. Matty stood up suddenly, lending out his hand for you, ‘I’m going to go outside for some air. Want to come?’

‘Uh, sure.’ His hand felt warm against yours, and you two slipped out the front door without anyone in the garden noticing. Matty walked you to the side of your house, a spot you remember vividly, and the tension feels weird, the energy is different, like there is so much to say but you want to say nothing at all. ‘You’re acting strange.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Matty says quietly, stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and leaning his hand on the side of the house. Adjusting yourself slightly, you twisted yourself to be facing him. ‘I can’t handle you leaving. It’s making me lose my bloody mind.’

“Matty, I’m going to school,’ you say, trying to brush away the feelings welling inside you. Objectively, to anyone else watching, this would be the perfect moment to profess your feelings for him, for him to share his feelings with you and tell you that you’re all he wants, and he’ll do the distance and all the things you watch in shitty romantic movies growing up. ‘I’m going to still talk to you and the guys. I’ll be back for holidays and summers. I’m not disappearing.’

‘I don’t want you to go.’

‘That’s not really an option, Matty. My career isn’t here. Nothing ties me to Manchester, besides my parents, growing up here. I want to go to New York. I want to go and experience it and then I want to come back and move to London and be an author and do all the things. Just like you want to be a musician. I wouldn’t be showing up at your house hours before you leave for a tour telling you not to go.’

‘I wouldn’t go,’ Matty says, turning his head away from the wall of the house and towards you. ‘I wouldn’t go if you didn’t want me to.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ you say, leaning against the siding of the house and tilting your head up towards the sky, staring at the stars. ‘You shouldn’t ever give up your dreams for your friends. That’s absurd and you know it.’

‘Jesus Christ, YN,’ Matty says roughly, the scratch in his throat accentuated by a wet rasp, and when you look at him, you can see the tears welling in his eyes, ‘you are not just my friend, you never have been. It’s always been more than that, and you know it.’

‘Know what, Matty? Me and you are only a thing when we’re high or we’re drunk. It’s not like you’re in love with me or something!’

‘And what if I was?’

‘Don’t say that to me. You can’t say that to me,’ you say, pushing off the wall and hurriedly walking towards the front door. Matty grabs your wrist and twists you around, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. It’s the type of kiss you read about, the one you watch in movies. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you breathless and confused and unsure where to go, only that you need to keep kissing him. Matty pulls away only for a second, giving you a moment to say, ‘You can’t do this when I’m about to leave. It’s not fair, Matty.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Matty rubs your cheeks softly, his eyes tracing over your features, trying to memorize everything about you. ‘I just, I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel about you. You’ve always been more than just a drunken kiss.’ You don’t know what to say, how to feel. ‘I want you. I want to be with you. I love you.’

‘I’m going to be on another continent, Matty,’ you sigh, tears welling in your eyes as you lean your face into his hands. ‘I can’t do long distance. I don’t want to. I want to write and fall in love and fall out of love and have experiences, and I want you to have those, too. I can’t do this, no matter how I feel about you. Matty, we can’t do this.’

Matty knows you better than to ask what he wants to really ask you. ‘Can I come and visit you? Can you come home and listen to the band and write songs with me? Can we get high and talk about existential crises and politics?’ His eyes squeeze shut as you wipe a tear from his cheek. ‘Can I still kiss you?’

‘Yes,’ you say, not specifying which question you’re answering. Matty can decide what the ‘yes’ is to and for. ‘And when I’m done with school,’ you say hesitantly, nervous about the implications of what this might mean, ‘when I’m coming home, if you still feel the same way, we can talk about it. I don’t want you to ignore every opportunity just because something might happen in four years. Live your life, Matty. And if something happens when I come back, then–’

‘Yeah,’ Matty says quietly, kissing your forehead and pulling his hands away, reaching into his pocket and grabbing another cigarette. ‘I’m going to stay out here; you can go in.’

‘Okay,’ you say, drawing back from him and walking towards the front door, and the further you walk away, the more it feels like you’re walking away from what should’ve been so good.

And this is where you are, four and a half years later. Home is calling, you’re excited to be where you know for a while, especially for the holidays, before heading down to London and making a life there on your own. All of your bags are packed, lined against the wall. Only a few more boxes need to be shipped to your new address, and you have time to do that tomorrow before your flight in a day. All of it is coming together, except for the fact that you have to face what you’ve been actively avoiding for the last four years, because you know it’s going to be something you talk about.

And only a few minutes pass with this thought, because then the buzzer rang, you clicked the button and opened the apartment door, and before you could properly think of a greeting, you’re sucked into his arms, his entire body wrapped around you tightly. He is warm and smells so good, you swear it’s impossible that he’s just gotten off an airplane. His warmth is familiar, a sweet scent wafting over you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him, your eyes shut as you just soak in the silence. He’s quiet, as well, and you know that you both are thinking the same thing, trying to avoid the unspoken energy in the room. You wonder how long it’ll take for him to say something about it, and you wonder how long after that it’ll take you to blurt out the words that have been itching at your throat since that dreaded night you think about often, the night you regret more than anything.

Matty slowly pulls away, grabbing your cheeks and staring at you intensely, and you feel like your whole body is on fire and you can feel the heat of his breath on your mouth, and you want nothing more than to be kissing him, to feeling his lips on yours. His thumb traces your cheek, and he says, “I’m so happy you’re coming home. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m only home for a week. I move to London next week,” you say, and immediately you feel guilty for not spilling out how much you’ve missed him since you’ve been away. “I’ve missed you, more than you could believe.” His smile is enough to make you feel like your feet are floating above the ground, and you have to step away, reaching for a mug on the counter and taking a sip of the warm tea. “I’ve come down with a cold, I’m sorry. I know we have to share a bed and all, but I’ll try to stay away from you.”

“Don’t worry about me, darling. I mean it,” Matty says surely, taking a look around the empty apartment. He’s been here a handful of times, coming to visit here and there and always spending the most amount of time with you that he could, even if that meant sitting and watching you write on your computer for hours. “Do you want to do anything, tonight? I don’t mind staying in if you’re not feeling well.”

“I think there’s a Walmart about thirty minutes away,” you say reaching for your phone and clicking at your screen to try and find a car to take you there. “Don’t feel like, tied to me, while you’re here. I’m okay with being alone.”

“I’m not okay with you being alone,” Matty says without a second thought, grabbing his things out of his bag and opening the door for you, waiting for you to lead the way. He follows you closely and watches you as you stare at the scenery around you. You’ve always been this way, a city person at heart, from the moment he met you, you talked about moving to the city. Granted, he didn’t know that it would be New York City, but he did always know you would wind up somewhere with hustle and bustle, and you would fit in.

“Quit staring at me,” you say, not willing to look away from the sight of the car passing over the bridge. Having to leave feels so bittersweet. On one hand, you are excited to be home, to be living in London and around your friends. On the other, you know that you’re going to miss the city you’ve fallen in love with. It’s been your true love for so long, it feels like heartbreak.

“I’m not staring,” Matty says, turning his head out the window, a smirk fighting to curve across his mouth. “You’re staring at me, now.” His smile is wide when you quickly turn away from looking at him, the view of the store coming in front of you. “Come on, sicky. I’m sure you dragged me here for a puzzle that you certainly will not finish.”

“I will finish it,” you say, rolling your eyes and climbing out of the car behind him. Matty takes your hand, and you can feel electricity and heat wash through your body, entangling your nerves. “I want an artsy one. Not sure which one, but something pretty.”

Matty nods and you walk through the store quietly, neither of you saying much. There are too many unspoken words in the air and neither of you are willing to start the conversation. Matty points towards the aisle with the puzzles, and you follow him, standing quietly as you peruse the options and try to find one that calls your name. Your eyes follow his movements, tallying the new tattoos and the significance of different ink on his skin. You always told him that you wanted a tattoo, but you were never willing to go alone.

“Ah, you can make your own puzzle with a picture,” he says, drawing you out of your trance and towards an advertisement. “Do we have time for that?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head. “Could you grab that one? That looks easy enough,” you add, pointing towards a tree of life puzzle on the very top shelf. Matty reaches for it easily, grabbing it and handing it to you to look at. “Perfect, thank you,” you say quietly, taking it from his hands, and without a second though, you kiss his cheek. His eyes go wide, and you can see the thoughts swirling around in his head. “Matty, seriously, don’t even think about it, I’m sick. I can’t get you sick before we fly home.”

“Have I ever cared about anything like that before?” Matty says seriously, turning towards you and taking a step forward, his body dangerously close to yours. “Are you really telling me not to?”

“No,” you swallow, and you can feel every nerve inch into your throat, your heart beating so loudly you can feel it reverberating in your ears. “Are you drunk or high? I don’t,” you pause, thinking very carefully about what you’re going to say next, “this can’t be like the other times.”

“YN, I just got off a plane three hours ago.” His body is now so close, you can feel his chest against yours, his breath hot against your face. You feel suffocated in this moment, too enraptured by the way being around him feels and the way he smells and the way his eyes have not left your lips, not even once. His hands come to your cheeks, a feeling you know all too well. “Can I?”

“Please,” you whisper, and suddenly your breath is taken away by his mouth on yours. Kissing him, it feels like sharing oxygen, like flying. Kissing him, it feels like every wrong decision is right and every bad thing is good. Kissing him, it feels like coming home. Kissing him, it feels like what you should’ve been doing all along. “I want to go home,” you mutter against his lips, and you can feel him smile against you. You can’t see it with your eyes closed, but the way his mouth is leaving open mouthed kisses on your cheek, it’s easy to tell.

“Take me home.”

Three simple words that have so much meaning, so much weight. Take me home. Take me home to your house. Take me home where we can be alone. Take me home where I can finally be with you, the way I’ve always wanted to be with you. Take me home, where we can start something, we’ve been waiting our whole lives for. Take me home, where I can be yours forever.

And the tension is there when you’re getting out of the car, and when you’re walking the stairs to get into the apartment, and when you’re quietly moving about the apartment trying to avoid talking to him about what just happened at all costs. Matty shuts and locks the door behind you, watching you mill about the apartment anxiously as he’s pressed against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest. You walk around him a few times, jumping back and forth from the kitchen to grab wine glasses that you were shipping out tomorrow and a wine bottle that you bought specifically for you two to share and the puzzle on the ground next to your makeshift mattress for the next day before you leave. Until finally, he can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t care about the bloody fucking puzzle, YN,” Matty says suddenly, cutting you out of your anxious thought wheel and walking directly over to you, grabbing your cheeks, and kissing you deeply, kissing you hard. His breath feeds you, and you feel like you could exist in this bubble for a long time, never needing anything else. “I want you so badly.”

“I want you, too,” you sigh, a moan leaving your lips as his hands begin wandering around your skin. “I don’t want this to be just a one-off thing, Matty. I don’t want to be a one-off thing.”

“You have never been a one-off thing,” he says sternly, gently tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it above your head with ease. He’s warm, and he’s almost certain it’s not from the heat of your apartment. “I have never, ever wanted anyone the way I want you. I love you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say ‘I love you’ back,” you say, and it’s the very first time in minutes that Matty has pulled away from you to really look at you. His heart softens, his thumb brushing under your cheek as a stray tear falls. All the emotions all at once are hitting you, and it feels like it’s too much, but you don’t want to stop, you don’t want this moment to end. It’s you and him. You and Matty, for the first time, and it feels just how it’s supposed to feel, “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back, back then, and I hope it’s not too late now to say it.”

“It’s not, baby. It’s not too late,” he assures you, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing against your lips. “I am still in love with you. I am in love with you. Nothing’s changed. Nothing about that has changed four years later.”

“I love you,” you say, and it’s easy, the words are easy coming from you to him. Matty smiles, leaning down and kissing you passionately, his hands reaching under your thighs and lifting you onto his waist, carrying you a few steps backwards to where your makeshift bed is. “I’m sorry about the bed.”

“Don’t care about the bed,” Matty whispers against your lips, setting you on your feet and working quickly to undo the buttons on your jeans. He’s skilled at this, you’ve noticed, the multitude of times he’s hurriedly worked to undo your jeans at family parties seemingly coming in handy, at this very moment. He’s heard you moan before; he’s made you orgasm, but it’s never gone this far, it’s never been this, and there’s an anticipation killing both of you that you are not willing to play with. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, shaking your head as you kick your jeans to the side and take a seat on the edge of the makeshift mattress. All you have on is your bralette and a seamless pair of underwear, not exactly the most ideal pairing, but something about it makes this feel even more perfect. Nothing was expected or certain. Like you two. Matty scrambles in his bag for the condom, and you can’t help but laugh watching him. He’s hurried and frantic and you have to remind him, “I am quite cold over here, but I’m not going anywhere. Take your time, I guess.”

“I’m doing my best,” Matty says with a grunt, swearing once or twice before smiling widely and waving the packets in his hand excitedly. “And I’m not an asshole, I just had very high hopes.”

“Extremely high.”

“You’re naked, aren’t you? Doesn’t seem like such a far-fetched hope to me.”

“And my clothes are right there,” you reply back with a smirk, pointing at your jeans and shirt piled together in the corner of the room. “Can put them back on in two seconds and we can go back to that lovely puzzle and my bottle of wine.”

“I’ll run into traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Matty shrugs off his sweater and his jeans, carefully leaning down and climbing over you, his warmth covering you completely. “I love you.” His face leans down and kisses you, the condoms forgotten somewhere beside you and the duvet at the edge of the mattress getting pulled over his back to cover you in extra warmth. “I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. I’m so glad I didn’t have to, though. That might’ve killed me.”

“I wouldn’t have made you wait that long,” you assure him, your hands holding his cheeks and threading through his hair. His hips dip against yours, and you can feel him hard and heavy against your core. You want him, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your hands move from his cheeks, trailing down his chest, pushing his boxers down his thighs. He pushes the material off his legs, leaning back onto his feet to look at you in front of him. “I clearly didn’t think this would happen. I’m not entirely, you know, ready.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matty says, his hands reaching behind your back and slipping your bralette off your body, his mouth immediately kissing alongst your chest, ghosting over your breasts and down your stomach. His hands are warm against your, but the goosebumps rising along your body from his touch is invigorating. He drags your underwear down your legs, kissing inside your thighs sweetly before climbing back up to meet you face to face. “I have so many things I want to do with you. You are just so beautiful.”

“You have time, Matty. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Matty fumbles with the condom wrapper for a moment, earning a giggle and a muffled laugh from him as he lays his hand over your mouth to quiet the laughter. He leans over you when it’s fully wrapped around him, his mouth heavy on yours. His fingers gently drag alongst your center, your arousal coating his fingertips and earning a moan from both of you. His cock moves easily against you, you’re so ready for him and anticipating this, that all you want is for him to finally be with you. “This is it. You’re coming home. I love you. And you love me. It’s us, now.”

“Us,” you whisper, a moan escaping your throat as he slowly inches himself into you, his forehead falling to yours and his mouth desperately finding yours to kiss you, to swallow your moans and your breaths and feel every part of you that he can. Matty’s arms are next to your face and your feel held and safe with him, like there’s nothing that could possibly go wrong while you’re like this. His hand slides between you, rubbing at the nerves between your thighs and kissing along your neck, your fingers dragging alongst his back as your legs circle around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer. His curls are clinging to his forehead with sweat, and you feel like your body is on fire, but it’s something you’ve craved for so long that you’re basking in it, that it’s everything you’ve wanted to feel. His thrusts are driven and hitting the right places and you think that it’s quite possible that you were always made to be together, that his body was made for you to enjoy and you for his. “I love you,” you whimper, your whole body tightening and your nails digging into his shoulders as your orgasm washes over you. His body stills above you, your legs still wrapped around his waist, and you can feel him release, his body easing into yours. He doesn’t want to move, but he knows he has to, and you hate the feeling of losing his warmth.

“Don’t move, baby. I’ll be right back,” he hums, kissing you sweetly as he slowly slides out and removes the condom, and he turns around when you giggle, your eyes fully fixated on his backside. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“Yes.”

“Is it nice?”

“Very.”

Matty laughs, shaking his head as he walks towards the wall and turns the heat another notch, before walking back towards you and sinking under the comforter with you. He lays on your chest, his hand wrapping around your waist, his fingers dragging along the curve of your side. “You don’t have to be so worked up, now. I know you, I know you’ve been awake all day because you were nervous about me coming.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You were nervous,” he says surely, his forearm supporting his body weight as he trails his fingers up your body and begins tracing your lips. He’s always been enthralled by your lips, by the way they feel on his. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Have you already told the guys?” you ask, turning your head slightly to give him better access to your skin, your eyes remaining closed and only listening to the sound of his voice. Outside, the stars and the moon are shining through the window, casting a perfect light over you.

“Told them what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Matthew.”

“They knew at Walmart.”

“I hate you so much,” you say, trying to hide the smile and the laughter that is fighting its way to the surface with your hands covering your face. Matty pulls your hands away, and you look at him, your eyes meeting his softly. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“I have something that may make you feel better.”

“I doubt that.”

“I mean, the guys don’t know that you’ve given me head every Christmas since you moved to New York, if that makes you feel better,” he smiles, the smirk on his face telling you everything he isn’t.

“And look at that! Tradition just ended. Just in the nick of time for this year,” you say, smacking his arm and turning around in the bed to face away from him. Matty wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest and kisses your shoulder sweetly. “I’m going to be travelling a lot for work. How are we going to do it?”

“You and I can figure that out,” Matty says surely, kissing the indent of your shoulder once more before gently guiding you to lay on your back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to see anyone else.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else.” Matty leans down to kiss you, and you hum against him, a content smile breaking apart your lips. “How many of the guys bet on this happened? I want to know.”

“I don’t think it was much of a bet of if it would happen,” he says, his fingers pushing stray strands of hair away from your forehead softly. “More of when.”

“Great! Happy to know they think I’m easy, Matthew.”

“Not my fault they can judge a situation! Think about it, darling, you can only sneak off at holiday parties so many times before someone notices.” He’s right, and you know it. “Not to mention, we weren’t very good at hiding it.” His mouth leans against your cheek when you roll your eyes, he knows he’s won this time. “I want to go to Central Park before we leave.”

“Central Park is just landscaping that people don’t take care of properly and tourists littering. It’s practically Sea World for New York City.”

“Can you do anything without posing an argument?”

“No, and now you’re in for a lifetime of arguments. That’s on you.”

Matty smiles brightly because he wouldn’t care if you argued over the simplest things every minute for the rest of his life if it meant he got to be with you.

[slytherinshua]

GIRL NEXT DOOR

genre. fluff. love at first sight (?) warnings. none. pairing. sungho x fem!reader. wc. 2.6k. a/n.surprise i write for boynextdoor now!!

You were moving from the big city to a small town. You were less than excited. All the streets looked the same to you. Plain houses built in the 60s lined neatly trimmed yards and sidewalks surrounded cul de sacs. It was the picture perfect suburbia— a small town where you would easily meet everyone your age within the first week going to your new school. You were dreading it.

“It’s so stupid that I’m moving. I’d be surprised if my dad’s new clinic is the only one that town has. They basically snatched him up the moment he accepted the offer.” You said bitterly, sipping on bubble tea with your best friend. It would probably be the last time you’d be able to have a bubble tea date with her for a while. Your heart sank at the thought.

“You’ve spent your entire life here… it’s a shame.” She sympathised, “But, you know what happens when you’re a new girl coming to a small town?”

“What?”

“You’re popular with the cute boys.” She teased.

“Come on- I’d be very surprised if I had anyone with a crush on me. I’ve never been popular.” You said, cringing as it brought back memories of your middle school years. You had gone through crush after crush, never landing on a proper relationship and always being rejected in the most humiliating way until eventually, you learned your lesson. When you got to high school, you forced yourself to stop being interested in boys. The couples making out in the hallway were enough to deter you, though. You would rather die than be that gross in public with your boyfriend. You weren’t one for PDA, that’s for sure.

“New kids either become popular, or stay quiet. There’s nothing about you not to like, so I think you have a good chance at becoming popular.” She reasoned. You thought about it. Your friend was rarely wrong. That’s what was so annoying about her. She was always right about everything. Maybe she would be right about this too.

Your phone binged with a text from your mom and you sighed, “Shit, I’d better go. The movers are here and I need to help move the boxes into the truck.” 

“Alright. You’d better text me and call me when you get there. I want a house tour and everything. I’m still your best friend even if I’m 4 hours away.” She smiled and you returned it.

“I’ll keep in touch with you, don’t worry. I’ll text you later! Bye!!” You waved at her and jogged off.

Your family’s apartment had been filled with boxes for almost 2 weeks. Your mom was obsessed with having everything ready to go in advance to reduce the stress. This, of course, only increased your stress every time you looked at your bedroom’s plain walls and brown cardboard boxes stacked on the floor in place of your dresser and desk.

You had transferred all your clothes to a suitcase a week prior after having to sort through them and donate everything that was too small or that you didn’t wear often enough. Fashion had always been something you were interested in and you were already dreading the fashion atrocities you might see in a small town. You doubted they would have good clothes stores either. 

You spent the rest of the day hauling boxes into the truck and struggling to help your dad lift the heavy things with the movers. Since you were just slightly stronger and more able bodied than your mom, you had no choice but to help. Moving armchairs down the stairs would be a nightmarish experience that you would remember for weeks, no doubt.

When everything was packed, you collapsed on the floor, tired and muscles aching. You looked around your empty apartment. The walls looked so bare and lonely without your mothers paintings on them. It looked way too clean and way too different. Your entire childhood had been spent living here. 17 years in this old trusty apartment complex. 

You remember going over to the lady next door for tea when you were little. She would tell you about her matchmaking business and all the cute couples she had been responsible for. She promised one day to set you up with someone… looks like that plan wouldn’t be working out after all.

You stood up and walked over to her door. You hoped she was there. You wanted to say goodbye before you left tomorrow. Maybe she would offer you tea just like when you were 7.

//

Sungho peeked out his window with curiosity. The house next to his that had been inhabited by a sweet old couple had finally been sold. He had overheard his parents talking about the new family moving in. Apparently they were going to start a clinic since the father was a family doctor. Sungho wasn’t interested in that, though. What piqued his curiosity was his parents saying that the couple had a daughter. A daughter around his age.

When they had first brought up the topic over dinner, Sungho had shrugged off their teasing about a cute girl moving in. But now he was anxiously looking out his window every 5 minutes, waiting for the moving truck to pull into the driveway of the house. 

His father and him were going to help the new family move in. Sungho’s mother had told him it would be a perfect opportunity to introduce himself to you. He was nervous with butterflies in his stomach at the thought. It wasn’t everyday that a new family moved into town. It was a very rare occurrence.

Soon he spotted the red car driving up the cul de sac with a moving truck following closely behind it. He gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before running down the stairs. He joined his father outside and went through introducing themselves to your father.

He peeked at the car again, wondering if you had already stepped out. You hadn’t, but you soon did. Sungho wished you hadn’t, because shit you were pretty. He gulped and gave your father a smile before offering to grab one of the boxes. He could feel his cheeks heating up the longer he stared at you and forced himself to shake off his stare and look elsewhere. He hoped he didn’t make his pink cheeks too obvious, but he was pretty sure you hadn’t even noticed him yet. Maybe that was for the best.

“Y/n, come introduce yourself to the neighbours!” Your mother called with a smile on her face as she talked to Sungho’s parents.

You groaned and walked over, keeping your head down for the most part. You hoped they weren’t some country bumpkins who would insist on your family joining the town’s monthly potluck after a church service.

“Hello, Y/n, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mrs. Park,” You nodded with a slightly forced smile. The lady seemed nice, honestly, but you weren’t in the best mood for socialising. You desperately wanted to set up the wi-fi at your new house so you could text your friend, but your parents would scold you if they knew that was the only thing you were thinking.

“And this is Sungho. You two are the same age.” Mrs. Park said happily, beckoning Sungho over to say hello. You looked up, slightly intrigued by what the boys were like in this new town. And Sungho did not disappoint. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome. Very handsome.

“Hi.” You smiled and waved a little. He waved back with a little lopsided smile that you could only assume was out of nervousness. He looked nice dressed in a denim jacket and hair brushed back but still a little messy from the light breeze tousling it. He must have caught you staring cause his smile widened slightly making his eyes crinkle into a cute eye smile. Fuck, why did you think he was cute?

Sungho and his dad helped move the heavy stuff into your new house. You were relieved the task wasn’t placed on you this time. While they were busy, you walked through the house, adjusting to the thought that this was your new home. Your room was bigger than before and even had a big window facing the Park’s house. Your brain automatically wondered whether it was Sungho’s room that you could see through your window. If all the houses in this town were built similarly, then it could be the case.

“Your room looks nice.” You turned around to Sungho with a big box in his hand. He set it down on the hardwood floor with a smile. “Do you want help unpacking?”

“Uh, sure! I’m not the strongest so… getting my bed and dresser in here would be a struggle.” You admitted. 

“I’ll grab them for you.”

//

After your first night in your new house you realised that Sungho’s bedroom was indeed the one facing yours. He stayed up late, just like you. It was around 6 weeks later and both your lights were on still, even though it was around 11 pm. You were lying on your bed, trying to count sheep to help you fall asleep. Except all your sheep strangely morphed into Sungho because he was all you could think of.

Your family had eaten dinner with the Parks a lot of times so far, and you would say you were fairly adjusted to the new town. You didn’t go out much unless it was for a bike ride or to the library, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought. Since it was still summer and you were too introverted to want to go out and hunt for friends, the only person who you knew was Sungho. You talked a lot in your backyard or his. You caught him wearing a necklace that you had wanted for a long time and found out he was interested in fashion as well from the encounter.

It was like the most you discovered about him, the more you had in common. You even liked the same idol groups and were fans of the same authors. How did you even manage to get this lucky with your neighbour? Plus, the more you hung around him, the more you thought he was cute.

You peeked out your window to see if he was visible from his window. He was. He was sitting at his desk and the lamp on it perfectly illuminated his face so you could see all the details of it.

“I should’ve asked for his number by now, darnit.” You mumbled to yourself. You hadn’t thought of it before since you lived right next to each other, but it wasn’t like you could go over this late at night. You’d have to improvise. You thought for a second before searching through one of your unpacked boxes for your sketchbook. Usually you would doodle outfits that you thought you would look good in in this sketchbook, but for now, it was going to serve a different purpose. You got out a sharpie and started writing in large, easy to read text. 

Do you stay up late a lot? 

You thought it would be awkward to put a simple ‘hi’ or ‘hey’ so you stuck to a question that he could answer. It took some courage to stand where he could see you from his window and hold up the sign, but you managed.

It didn’t take very long for him to look up from his desk and notice the sign. You watched him read it and then make eye-contact with you, his charming smile overtaking his features again. He stood up and went somewhere else in his room, presumably to grab paper and a pen. Soon he was back and he held up the sign in response to yours. 

Yeah. If it bothers you that my light is on, I can turn it off :) 

It doesn’t bother me. I usually stay up late as well.

He smiled again, looking down at his desk as his cheeks tinted a bit. He hoped you didn’t notice. Was it weird that he already liked you so much? He was suddenly reminded of how his past crush had been stolen by another boy right in front of his eyes. His friends had told him he hadn’t been direct enough and that was why she had chosen someone more straightforward. But he had just been too shy to confess directly. He didn’t want to repeat that mistake again, so he took a breath and gathered some stored up courage, picking up his pen again.

Can I have your number?

He held up the sign nervously, one hand anxiously fiddling with his shirt as he waited for your response. You shouldn’t be too opposed, right?

I was just about to ask you! It’s *** *** **** :) 

You were smiling as widely as he was which both calmed his heart and made it beat faster. What if you liked him too? What if you thought he was cute? What if he had the same effect that you had on him? He shook off all of his thoughts, telling himself that he was getting ahead of himself. 

He carefully copied your number into a new contact and sent a simple ‘hey, it’s sungho’ to make sure he got it down correctly. You felt almost giddy receiving the first text from him. You had given your number to your crush just like that? And he had asked you for it? The thought had your cheeks heating up again.

It was past 1 and you were still texting him. It was hard to want to stop, he was just so cute, even over text. Whenever he thought he overstepped, he would apologise so fast until you told him that it was fine. It felt different from talking to him over the past 6 weeks. It felt way more like talking to a crush than talking to a friend, which didn’t help your bad case of lovesickness.

When you started to yawn, you decided you should probably say goodnight to him. He must be tired as well.

i’m a bit tired, i think i’m gonna go to sleep for the night - Y/n 1:21am

ok! sleep well, y/n!! - Sungho 1:21am

btw - Y/n 1:21am

yeah? - Sungho 1:22am

you’re really cute - Y/n 1:22am

goodnight! - Y/n 1:22am

You turned off your phone quickly, eyes a bit wide as you wondered why you had sent that last text. Where did you even get the confidence? God, what if he thought you were weird. He probably only saw you as a friend, or worse, the new annoying neighbour girl. You groaned at your stupidity and peeked at your phone again. He had read the text, but hadn’t replied.

“Shit, I really messed up.” You felt like smacking your head against the wall. What were you thinking?!

I think you’re cute too - Sungho 1:26am

You blinked, and then blinked again. Oh. You put down your phone and shut your eyes, willing yourself to go to sleep and not think about it too much. You could always wake up tomorrow and realise that this was a whole big misunderstanding or something. There was no way that Sungho really thought you were cute, right? But what if he did?

You opened your eyes again, looking at the texts with him again.

sleep well cutie <3 - Sungho 1:27am

You failed to get to sleep that night. So did Sungho.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ boynextdoor taglist: open!

[lovely-peace]

Burning moon 1.

Summary: The reader is devastated at Remus nothing saying answer and thinks of it like an rejection. To overcome this they try to forget their love for him but is failing miserably. But Remus doesn't react to their coldness like they expected...

Warnings: self hatred, unrequited love?, angst, Sirius( jk I love him), over thinking, bad communication

~If you see this and haven't read Part 1 I advise you to read it before reading this so you understand what is happening. This part is simply a sequel to part 1 and isn't bound to the song like the first part

masterlist part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

I was glad the year was almost over after... I confessed. I could go on with my life and go out of his way. Lily was trying to make me go out with the others, but I had plenty of reasons I could tell her why I couldn't go.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah Lily, my stomach hurts pretty bad and I don't think I should go. "

Of course after one week of excuses she would grew suspicioun, but the year was over.

I could go home. I would have some time alone.

It was like I had some luck in my misery.

I really tried to ignore my feelings. I really did, but it was like a really persistent bug that wouldn't fly away. Whenever I heard Remus' name my heart would beat faster. My cheeks went red, and my thoughts circled around him constantly.

It was disgusting. I was disgusting.

I didn't look at him. I didn't sit next to him at lunch like I always did. I didn't acknowledge his existence.

And still. He was still everywhere I went.

At the last day of school we were going to the train station like always. Of course with Remus. Their whole friend group said bye to each other including myself and Remus. It was awkward, really.

I had always hugged everybody and cried when I had to say goodbye.

Not this year.

The most I could do was to say goodbye to everyone.

"Is our little princess not sad she has to leave us behind, this year??" Sirius said with a grin, but he had this look in his face I couldn't read.

"What can I say? You are pretty annoying Sirius and I have to return to my kingdom!" I joked and tried to smile and laugh.

It was the fakest laugh I ever heard.

"Don't forget to write! It always gets so boring without you." Alice said. She was a really good friend and even tho she wasn't good friends with the marauders, she still came to them from time to time.

"Of course Alice! I can't ever forget to write you." I exclaimed and smiled at her. The train was about to start. I always sit with Lily and Mary in one cabin so we always said goodbye to each other before the train started.

Then Remus looked at me. His eyes seemed to bore through my soul and I felt like he saw everything that was going on inside of me.

And I hated him for that.

I hated his pretty eyes and how they made me flush. I hated that I couldn't think straight in his presence after everything I did to overcome him.

I hated that he still had control over me.

"I hope you have a great Sommer. Don't overwork yourself, alright? You can always write me too, if you want to talk." he said. He smiled at me and seemed so sincere.

And I just said :" Yeah, bye." and got on board of the train.

I know that was unfair. He was so nice to me and I just ignored his presence. I didn't even look him in the eyes when I said that.

But I was hurt. No scratch that.

But I was angry. Angry at him that he pretended everything was normal. But more importantly I was angry at myself. At my weakness for him. At my constant thoughts about him. At my love for him.

Lily and Mary followed me after they said goodbye themselves. I sat down inside of an empty Cain and waited for them.

I felt tears in my eyes. It was burning. But I swallowed them before the others came in. I just looked out of the windows while they put down their things.

There was a tense silence.

Mary broke the silence first.

"What was that?" she said.

I didn't look away from the window. I just replied :"What was what?". Even though I knew what she was talking about.

"Come on you know. That between you and Remus!"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Now Lily stepped in. "We are not dumb, Y/n. We know you are ignoring him. And that out on the train station? That was just cold." she said.

I remained quiet.

"Look whatever you are mad at, talk to Remus about it! He is really worried about you." Mary exclaimed.

They didn't know. Anger boiled up inside of me. It seemed like they made Remus the victim of this situation. They didn't know. They knew nothing about my pain in the last months.

The months I hoped he would answer me. The months I hoped for his love.

I wanted to Scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to tell them. NOW.

I smiled at them instead.

"It is really nothing. I just didn't want to miss the train."

Lily raised her eyebrow. " Yeah sure."

The tense silence was back and filled the room.

This time Lily broke it.

"Why... Why aren't you talking to us? Are you mad at us too?"

That caught me off guard. Was I mad at them? I realized that I was. Yeah, I was furious, because they didn't know anything. That they didn't look for me when we were at hogsmead. And I know that's stupid, life doesn't revolve around me, but we were friends.

Friends cared and looked after each other.

Like Remus did,because I am his friend nothing more.

The tears came back and I began to tremble. What was wrong with me?

" What is wrong? You know you can tell us." Mary said and her kind and gentle voice brought me back to reality.

She was right. I could tell them.

But should I?

They were also friends with Remus. I know we were good friends, but in the end they maybe would tell him why I was ignoring him. And I didn't want him to know.

I felt ashamed of myself. Of my weakness.

But in this brief moment I didn't listen to my thoughts. I just said :"I am angry at you, because you didn't look after me. In hogsmead."

When i saw Lily's wide eyes I immediately regretted what I said. I didn't want to guilt trip them. I was stupid, stupid, stup-

"I'm sorry."

What?

"Remus told us you weren't feeling well and that you went to the toilet. He told us he will stay behind and look after you."

Stop talking about him! Stop saying nice stuff about him!

"I didn't know you were having a tough time... But I should have at least asked after you. I'm deeply sorry." Lily said.

In this moment I couldn't stop the tears. I cried like someone died. And maybe someone did. I didn't even recognize myself.

They stopped asking questions about remus. I wasn't in the right state to tell them, but I would tell them eventually.

When the train arrived, I took my things and ran off the train. I could not see him again today. Not after this conversation. I ran away into the holidays. Away from my problems just somewhere else.

And the sun didn't see the burning look in the moons eyes as he saw his sun ran away.

Taglist:

@juleshadalittlelamb @fluffybunnyu

[demonslayedher]

Not-very-spoilery thoughts on the movie release of Pillar Training (+SSV conclusion)

Behind a cut anyway just in case!

--Very nice to hear familiar background music brought back--Yuukaku themes when Uzui & his wives appear, Mitsuri's "Koi Kogare" BGM when she has a good batch of lines, Giyuu's BGM as he's like, "bye"

--I am very happy with the new OP, both sound and imagery-wise.

--One very short clip in particular made me, a fanfic writer, very very happy, but then there was more gratuitous focus that reminded me of another one of my best fanfics. The rewards of writing fic as closely based on canon as I could get them gives me the satisfaction of feel liking like canon-based imagery honors my fics by extension.

--Speaking of imagery in general, Ufotable is finding lots of ways to try to harp on the idea that everyone's wishes to destroy demons find their accumulation in Tanjiro, the Sun Breath user and first person in centuries to unlock the Mark. It is perhaps a little clumsy at times, but hey, that's a theme I like in this series.

--I was sad that Suma sounded so different, and had to look up afterward if she still had the same seiyuu. She does, but I think they might have given her totally different vocal direction so that she wouldn't sound too similar to Mitsuri

--Japanese crowds tend to be very quiet at movie theaters, but people could not contain their giggles at many of Mitsuri's lines

--I had the honor of sitting next to a huuuuuuuge fangirl who before the moving was saying stuff to her friends like, "(Hanae) Natsuki-san was at USJ the other day, and since it's a VR ride, you know, you have to wear the goggles, and I think, what if I wear the pair that he wore??? You know?? Our faces??? Would be so close?????" and then at the review of previous seasons at the beginning of the show, she started crying the instant the Mugen Ressha part started. Not loud crying, but crying.

--You can tell everyone was waiting for the "welcome back" scene, and although I thought Zenitsu would steal the show in that scene, it was indeed Nezuko. In the seiyuu greeting that was broadcast across all Japanese theaters on the opening day, Shimono-san noted that he thinks the audio was turned down on his performance of that scene. I think it was probably was too.

--So much happy daily life in this episode. If you have any friends who complained about last year's theater showing being a let-down because it was just regular anime episodes instead of a Mugen Train style movie, please tell them to just sit this one out and spare us their complaints. Most of this showing was just Tanjiro having a nice time after having a panic attack over Nezuko (oh, and like, killing Upper Moon Four, that too).

--Shinobu's hair seems distinctly longer. Giyuu's hair seems distinctly fluffier.

--Ufotable has put a lot of touches into humanizing Amane

--I wish Ufotable would stop trying to drive the "Zenitsu thinks Aoi is happy to see him (just because Aoi is a girl)" point. First off, yes, Zenitsu being a creep to girls is played up a bit in the anime. Second, the first fanbook states that the only kind of girl who is not so much his type is the Aoi-type.

--Also, on the promo art, I like the design they gave Shinobu's sword, but that's ignoring the fact that the four engraved kanji characters are on either side. Go ahead, Ufotable, hire me as your canon double-checker. EDIT: Oh wait, that is its sheath. Lovely, carry on.

--That said, the original filler they gave us? Gold star. Excellent. So happy with it. One... well, two tiny nitpicks that don't bother me much but stating it here would spoil it.

--One more non-spoilery thing to say about that filler: the people at Ufotable were probably like, "our fans are nerds. We already give them this, this, this, and that to nerd over. You know what else they are probably nerds for? Yeah. Let's give them that." Thank you, Ufotable. This nerd accepts and loved it.

--Tiny Nezuko filler as they set the stage talking about Muzan is probably looking for her? LOVE THAT TOUCH, at every level.

--Shinobu does have multiple goldfish, but they look a bit different?

--Genya's makes the best face in this whole episode

--Speaking of Genya, in the seiyuu greeting they had actors in big chibi costumes of the Kamaboko gang come out... PLUS GENYA. Giant chibi grumpy Genya was so, so, so, so freaking cute. Also, his seiyuu Okamoto got to join the stage with everybody and was talking about how he always used to scroll through his social media seeing the other seiyuu at KnY events and he was like, "sigh... sure looks like everyone is having fun..."

--Hanae Natsuki and his wife are big Genya fans, though, it seems

--Okamoto had a lot of trouble performing young Genya in the flashback, especially the emotional screaming. The desperation Genya always displays as he fights? That was Okamoto. --Meanwhile, Matsuoka always looks very overwhelmed at these things. I think having to embody the spirit of Inosuke terrifies him.

--IT WAS SO GOOD TO HEAR INOSUKE AGAIN

--Those actors in chibi costumes? The Zenitsu and Inosuke ones embodied them SO WELL. I don't usually care for those giant mascot character costumes, but these were legit so much fun to watch, like with Inosuke going right up into the cameras and Zenitsu trying to pull him back and then the two of them pushing and shoving. Zenitsu acting like he is being bullied and Inosuke showing off his muscles. I loved them. I am very sad that I will not be in town when they travel across Japan and come to my area.

--Also, the baritone voice of Oyakata-sama's personal crow? LOVED IT.

--Himejima at the the Pillar Meeting is such a statement. The new promotional material has a tag line that prominently uses one of the kanji in his name ("cry out"), and I feel like this is set-up for him to have a lot of impact later on in this season. Here's hoping!

--I am probably gonna go watch it again in a couple weeks, ufufufu

--Which is worth it for that KIZUNA NO KISEKI REMIX WHICH SOUNDED SO COOL IN SURROUND SOUND, OH MY GOSH

[chloenotfound404]

Stage Shenanigans Part 2!

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⚠️Warnings!: Tickling strictly SFW (if that’s not your thing skip), swearing

(Since this is a part two, part one is in my master list and linked here but you don’t have to have read it to read this! My writing is rusty since it’s been over a whole ass year since I’ve actually wrote a fic so sorry if it’s shit!)

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Summary: Due to Phantoms antics from the last show, Swiss wanted a bit of revenge but also to see the poor bug slowly crumble. Lee!Phantom, Ler!Swiss.

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By this point, mostly all of the ghouls and Papa had gotten out of their respective uniforms and started to settle into the bus for the night. The ghoulettes all left together before anyone else, all seeming to be fauning over the success of the show on the way out. “We’ll be back on the bus!” Aurora yelled as they walked out of the main door of the dressing room, earning some “See yas,” and “Byes,” from the rest of the Ghouls. Phantom and Swiss were still getting out of uniform to their loungewear, Sodo and Rain putting their instruments away into their cases and Mountain just having come out of the shower. Papa was off in another room, possibly communing with Papa Nihil or taking a moment to himself.

Swiss hadn’t forgotten the events only around 20 minutes ago and he was still reeling from it. His cheeks hot but not quite flushed with colour yet and his tail gently beating the armrest of the couch as he sat down to wait for everyone else. Phantom on the other hand was still as energetic and not seeming all too phased from the events. If anything, he looked accomplished and almost proud of how easily he got Swiss to break. A smirk practically plastered over his lips as he washed his hair under one of the taps to tame it after being in the helmet. “That show seemed more successful than most,” Rain mumbled as he walked into the green room with Sodo, the conversation continuing into the green room.

Swiss, wanting to get revenge waited for everyone to filter out of the dressing room into the green room next door to wait for Papa. His eyes glued to Phantom as Phantom continued to get his stuff and put some away.

The uniform onto a hanger, the guitar in its case, his other bits and pieces put into his backpack- all whilst humming one of the many songs they had performed. Phantom turned to leave through to the green room with a stretch, where Swiss would ultimately start up a new war on getting revenge. The same smirk Phantom had before now on Swiss’ lips as he stood up and walked passed Phantom, gently letting his fingers drift over Phantoms stomach which made the younger ghoul give out a cute yet loud-ish squeak making his arms come crashing down instantly, his head whipping around to see what the hells it was.

The smallest of chuckles left Swiss’ lips as he walked through, and a blushing Phantom followed suit, noticing Rain's eyes on them both. “What was that noise?” Rain asked with a small head tilt and a slight sigh, not really realising the reality of Swiss’ words from before. Swiss instantly looked back at Phantom, the shit eating smirk taking over his lips again as Phantom struggled to find some sort of excuse or cover for what happened. “I-I just-I saw uhh a moth in the uhh dressing room when I was coming through,” Phantom stuttered out, moving out of the way of Swiss to the other side of the room as everyone got up to head onto the bus. All of the other Ghouls exchanging confused and doubtful looks in response to the cute attempt at a cover up excuse.

Phantom's cheeks flushed out a gentle pink as he got on the bus, almost instantly curling up in his bunk from how tired he was from the show. Swiss soon following suit to his own bunk but obviously he had to fuck with phantom a little bit again. His hand reaching into the bunk curtain, reaching for phantom's stomach again quickly skittering over it in a spider like motion making the poor ghoul yelp more from surprise than anything. The reaction earring a snort from Sodo and a small laugh from Aurora, the rest not realising having been lost in other conversations. The moment after Swiss reached in, Phantom instinctually rolled over to face the wall of the bunk to hide the blush rising to his cheeks, which luckily no one could see for the curtain. Swiss still having the accomplished smirk over his lips curling into his own bunk for the night to sleep.

The morning dawned through the windows of the tour bus, peeking through the bunk curtains waking everyone up for the day ahead. The bus was already parked outside of the venue with some of the crew already unloading the platforms and instruments into the staging wing around the back of the venue. Aurora and Cirrus having some conversation about a book they were both reading by the sounds of it through phantom ears, Sodo and Mountain talking about the audiences from the last few nights, Cumulus and Rain complimenting the outfits they were both wearing. And of course, Phantom just rouses into all of this. Swiss seemed like he was in the back lounge getting changed. Phantom's hand pulled back the curtain of his bunk, drawing attention from Aurora with her bright smile and a small wave greeting him. He moved out of the bunk and grabbed his clothes, knowing he’d be due in the venue in a short time. His hands hit of the bunk above as he changed into his own bunk since the lounge was occupied by Swiss already, his mind not forgetting how Swiss had been acting since last night. “Morning, sleepyhead,” Cirrus joked, ruffling Phantom's hair between his horns with a chuckle. Phantoms cheeks growing a tinge pink as he yawned, “Mornin’” he mumbled through his yawn, walking past Sodo and Mountain to get to the mirror to sort his hair that had been all ruffled up.

Not but an hour later, all of the ghouls and Papa were in the venue, setting up their little areas of the stage. Phantom kneeled on the floor to affix the wires of his pedal and guitar along side sodo and rain by his side. Swiss, still trying to egg Phantom on, swiftly bent down as he walked by the others, pinching the sweet spot right under Phantoms ribs. Phantom shrieked. His hand still holding the guitar but it came close to dropping it on the stage floor, he whipped his head around finding Swiss walking away biting back giggles as he walked. Swiss’ shoulders slightly shaking knowing that he had gotten a worthwhile reaction. Both Sodo and Rain gave chuckles as the whole thing transpired. Phantom's cheeks were for sure a bright pink - borderline red by this point. The fact that Swiss had found that and gained that reaction.

“I think you have some pipes on you, Tom,” Rain chuckled, fiddling with his bass to tune it. Phantom only gave a shy chuckle in response not knowing what to even say back to it.

Another good few hours later, they were all getting ready to head onto the stage with only 10 minutes until they were due. The starting positions more than worried Phantom as he looked at the staging plan, he stood up on Swiss’ platform slightly in front and to the left of Swiss. He tried to shrug off his nerves and finished bucking the shirt buckles of his uniform, tying up his boots and putting on the helmet right before they were called to the curtain side of the stage to start filtering to their spots. The ghouls went in first to get their instruments ready, soon followed by the ghoulettes to get into their stands. Phantom's heart was practically pounding, that funny feeling sinking into his stomach that Swiss would copy exactly what he had done last night. Or, he would play the long game.

Of course, Swiss noticed how on edge Phantom seemed and smirked, giving the younger ghoul gentle skitters along his stomach from behind. Phantom, not expecting it in the slightest, practically doubled over in giggles. His guitar barely helped to block out Swiss’ hands, if anything it made it easier since phantom couldn’t do much. “You’re all tense and on edge, you know you don’t need to be,” Swiss giggled, knowing fully well what he was doing to the poor ghoul. Phantom batted at Swiss’ hands hearing the count in the in-ear monitors for the go to get ready. Phantom knew he wasn’t safe this show and Swiss was all too ready to get back at him.

They were just after half way through the ritual, the energy taking the room by storm. The boys jumping off the platforms, the girls all dancing and prancing around on their platforms and occasionally coming to the main stage. The energy is unmatched in this show in comparison to the last few. But Phantom couldn’t help but still be on edge. Swiss hadn’t been ignoring him by any means but he wasn’t tickling him or messing with him like before, it was like any average show. Just after they had concluded Mary On A Cross, that was the moment it had turned. All of the ghouls settled back into their own places as Papa went on his small rants to bide time for the ghouls to get settled for the next song. Returning guitars, taking some water and chilling for a bit. But Swiss had other ideas.

Phantom sat on one of the steps by Swiss’ side to let his body rest before the next song. Swiss sat by him with that damned smirk again instantly making Phantom get all clammy and nervous. He wouldn’t in front of the whole auditorium, not when it’s this quiet. But that thought was quickly proven wrong. Swiss’ hand skittering around where the base of Phantom's tail is, the smaller ghoul giggling under the balaclava. His hand tried to subtly bat at Swiss’ hand but it wasn’t any help. The tail had it not been tucked in would have been whipping about in instinct. “Fucking s-Stoppit!” Phantom whisper yelled through his soft giggles, his shoulders starting to softly shake as he tried dodging out of the way. Even though no one else could hear the commotion, it did catch the eyes of Mountain and Cumulus, the smallest of smiles apparent from them and by the looks of it some of the audience too. “Don’t wage a war you can’t fight then,” Swiss chuckled, his fingers moving up to the bottom of the back of Phantom's neck making the younger give an audible snort into his arm. The moment felt like hours of torture to poor Phantom but was only a minute or so before they went into Dance Macabre, his composure trying to pick up for the rest of the show the best it could.

The rest of the show had gone just as well as the first half, high energy, loud and fun. The transition into bows was one of the best possible, the ghoulettes holding bouquets and all of them having bracelets and small trinkets from the fans. Phantom was wrangled back by Swiss to get in line for the bows, a swift and sharp prod to Phantom's stomach to do so. And like expected, the ghoul squeaked and stumbled back into the line trying to brush it off as much as before. And it didn’t really work. A small collective ‘aww’ from the audience that saw the interaction which made his cheeks flush.

They did their bows and were about to go off stage, collecting some last gifts that they could. Phantom grabbed a few bracelets and roses as he walked away which was again somewhat ruined by Swiss darting over and attaching himself to the younger ghoul. His fingers once again finding the sweet spot right under Phantoms ribs making him stumble into the wings in an unprecedented fit of loud laughter having not expected it in the slightest. “Just count this as revenge,” Swiss chuckled, not caring about the fact they were partially visible to the crowd from a certain angle. Phantom went to protest before practically buckling slightly from the fact that the weakest spot he had was being targeted. “W-wha-what the *snrk* what the fuck!?” Phantom managed through his fit of laughter, the kicker being the fact he let out an unmuffled snort trying to escape the torment he was being put through. Swiss couldn’t have been any more happy with the reaction he had gotten, he had the poor ghoul right where he wanted him. “Seems one of our new spawns has a snort laugh too,” rain commented on the side, watching all of this transpire with a smile as he got himself out of the uniform. “T-this isn’t fair!!” Phantom whined through his giggles, the giggle-snorts he was known for between the ghouls finally starting to spill out as he tried pulling away from Swiss. To his credit, he had pulled them away from the curtain side view but he wasn’t free yet. “There’s the giggles we wanted!” Swiss teased, managing to get his fingers right into the sweet spot under Phantom's ribs but more to where his ribs and sides meet making Phantom cackle and double over. Right where he wanted him.

The snorts were practically the only sort of sound coming from Phantom, well, the only other sound that wasn’t loud cursing and unellagable pleas to get him out of the torture. Swiss still wanted more though, and more he got. He aimed for the bugs hips with gentle yet tender squeezes in a rhythm. The poor bug practically fell right into rain from how much of a reaction it got from him. “Woah! Hey little bug,” Rain chuckled, propping Phantom back to his feet with Swiss not showing any signs of stopping. “Damn, you’re just a walking tickle spot,” Swiss smirked, keeping one hand at Phantom's hips and another one to his stomach. And just like that, Phantom crumbled. The contagious giggle snorts picked up again and he had now buckled onto the floor, not finding any strength to even protest or have any comebacks. He was just a giggly, snorty and flustered mess.

“All right you two, c’mon,” Aurora chuckled, just barely managing to pull Phantom out from under Swiss with Mountain hauling Swiss from Phantom. The poor bug was bright red from his laughter, his cheeks all puffed out and his breath starting to catch in his throat as he regained his breath and composure. “It was just a bit of revenge,” Swiss whined, trying to seem as innocent as possible to Mountain who didn’t buy it at all. “Yeah and pigs can fly.” Mountain chuckled, looking at Phantom who was still catching his breath as he took the base of his uniform off. Rain gave out a giggle seeing how wobbly Phantom was walking meaning he still had the leftover ticklish feeling ringing through him. “You look like a baby deer the way you’re walking,” Swiss giggled, giving a gentle head pat to the small bug to reassure him that he was done. “You’re such an asshole,” Phantom chuckled, looking at Swiss with the usual playful glint that he had lacked the last day or so. “Well, you started it,” Swiss commented as they both walked through to the dressing room. “And I guess you finished it,” Phantom smiled, heading towards his wee corner where his stuff was sitting.

It was clear they had found a new way to wind each other up and this tour wouldn’t be a relaxed as the last ones, that was for sure.

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Tags!!

@erin-writes-ghost-fluff